The Fall of the Order of the Star
by Idrisien
Summary: The Order of the Star was once a mighty force for good. However, arrogance has replaced the high ideals, and folly has robbed the Order of much of its power. Now, a young servant girl will witness the fall of the Order and bring about its rebirth.
1. Death

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The Fall of the Order of the Star

The Order of the Star was once a mighty force for good on the Arrel Plains. However, over many years, arrogance and greed have replaced the high ideals, and folly has robbed the Order of much of its power. Now, over a thousand years since its founding, a young servant girl will witness the fall of the Order - and will bring about its rebirth.

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Chapter One - Death

Shouts from the sentries alerted the grooms, and they rushed out of the stables to receive the influx of horses even as the clatter of steel-shod hooves sounded on the courtyard.

'That'll be the Lord Commander, back from pounding the bad guys again!' Shel grinned at Kiri. He dropped the harness he was working on and scrambled up onto a ledge to peer out the windows, trying to get a look at the returning knights.

Kiri followed more slowly. She felt a surge of resentment towards the skinny redhead. He was a full year younger than her, but at the age of fourteen, he was a stablehand and got to work with the warhorses - huge, beautiful, powerful creatures, veterans of many battles. Kiri, on the other hand, got to clean the floors.

She had finally finished cleaning the knight's living quarters and, because she had been so quick to get it done, she had two free hours before supper. Free, that is, as long as Carren, the head housekeeper, didn't find her loitering in the halls.

So, she had escaped to the stables. Not so much to see Shel - he wasn't _that_ much of a friend, but he was tolerable, and he was about her own age. In fact, he was the only other child in the fortress, except for the knights' children, and she certainly could never hope to be friends with _them_.

No, the real reason she came to the stables was to see the horses. Kiri grinned as she climbed up onto the stalls' wall and patted the big black stabled next door. The warhorse snorted and bumped his head against her affectionately, almost knocking her off her perch.

'That's...' Shel started to say something before trailing off to stunned silence. He was staring out the window, and Kiri quickly left the horse and shuffled over to see what was so interesting.

Outside in the courtyard, the knights were dismounting with help from the grooms, a group of men-at-arms milling about behind them. So what?, Kiri thought, What's so astonishing about that? Then she realised. Fifty knights had ridden out with the Lord Commander, with eighty men-at-arms behind them. There in the courtyard, the knights numbered less than thirty, with a similar number of foot soldiers.

Many of the men out there bore bandages. Kiri noticed that their armour showed dents and even gaping holes. Even as she watched, a knight toppled from his saddle, hitting the ground with a crash of metal plate.

'Sergeant Firras! Get that man to the infirmary!' A tall man in distinctive green-and-silver armour strode out of the crowd, barking orders. Two soldiers were quickly sent to scoop up the fallen knight. More commands hastened the grooms off with the horses, and hurried the dispersal of the men-at-arms.

'That's not... That's Lord _Vayrlan_.' Shel's voice was barely a whisper.

'What? But...' Kiri stopped as she realised Shel was right. The armour could not be mistaken, that was definitely the Commander's equipment, the strongest magic armour the Order possessed. But the man wearing it was not Lord Commander Kershel.

It was Lord Marshal Vayrlan, the second in command of the Order of the Star. That was obvious, his greying black hair and beard and his aquiline nose clearly visible - because he wore no helm. So where was the helm that went with the armour? And why was Lord Vayrlan wearing the Commander's armour? And where _is_ Lord Commander Kershel?

The questions running through Kiri's mind were horribly answered when she saw two knights lift a stretcher and carry it towards the inner courtyards.

Although their burden was covered with a cloak, it was clearly a body. By its shape, a headless body.

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Chapter Two - Reflections

Kiri furtively glanced around the servants' dining hall. The fortress' workers hunched over their breakfast, mostly silent, the few conversations conducted in whispers.

Everyone was still in shock over the death of Lord Kershel, and no one wanted to start any speculation over what had happened. At least, not in public. Kiri knew that rumours were flying among the servants, but no-one had bothered to mention anything to the little cleaning girl.

Almost all of the servants were present, yet the room could have held three times as many people. Kiri had previously seen this as spaciousness, like the fact that she had her own room - evidence of the wealth and power of the Order.

Now, however, she was remembering the stables. The five huge stone buildings were built to house one hundred horses each, with rooms above for the stable workers and to store fodder.

Last night, the grooms had been able to stable all of the knights' horses in one building.

Each knight had two horses, but even allowing for dead horses, that meant that there were only about fifty knights left in the fortress. Well, maybe sixty, but even so, that was shockingly few for the main stronghold of the Order.

Certainly, there were four other chapterhouses, but Kiri knew that they held only twenty knights each, or forty in the great chapterhouse in the city of Venkenka. That's a total of one hundred and sixty knights in the entire Order, Kiri quickly calculated, when this fortress alone was designed to hold two hundred and fifty. That is, based on the stabling of two horses per knight, and five hundred stalls in the stables.

Kiri was proud of her ability to calculate. Her father had taught her reading, writing and calculation when she was little, and now it came naturally to her. She knew that most of the other servants could barely write their own names, and when she had first come to the fortress, she had hoped that her ability would get her some important post. But no...

The main doors to the hall burst open and a serving man burst into the room, gasping, 'They're not all dead!' There was an instant explosion of noise as everyone in the hall spoke at once, asking for the news.

'What...', 'Where is...','What did...'

'QUIET!,' Carren bellowed from her position at the head of the table. She was a big woman, but more importantly, she held a good deal of power over the servants. Everyone fell silent, and the head housekeeper turned to the serving man. 'Now, Gar, you have some news?'

'Yes,' Gar said, still a bit breathless, 'I've just been over in the men-at-arms' hall, and I've got the full story about what happened.'

He stopped for a breath, and people burst out with more questions, but Carren quelled them with a glare. 'You said they're not all dead. So where are the others?'

'The worst wounded were left behind at the Venkenka chapter-house,' Gar told her, 'Seven knights and thirteen men-at-arms.'

Expressions of relief erupted throughout the room. Kiri felt relief, too, until she remembered her calculations. One hundred and sixty knights plus seven wounded. It made very little difference.

Carren hushed them all again. 'So, tell us, Gar, what happened to them all? How did Lord Kershel die?' There was instant silence. Everyone wanted to hear the answer to that.

'Well,' Gar began, 'It seems the Lord Commander heard tell of an orc chieftain up in the hills north of Teris, north of the river. Seems like the Commander heard that this orc and his tribe were attacking some of the farms around Teris. That's what the Commander rode out to do, put a stop to the attacks.' Many people around the tables nodded at that. It seemed the Commander's mission was well known - but not to Kiri. No-one had told her anything.

'Orcs couldn't beat the knights!,' one woman burst out.

'No,' Gar chuckled, 'The knights stomped those orcs pretty good.' There was a rush of laughter at that, but then they quietened as Gar continued.

'No, what the Commander didn't know was that there were actually _three_ tribes of orcs.' Gasps from around the room. 'The knights were just tidying up when they were attacked by about two hundred more orcs, along with a bunch of ogres and a couple of giants.' His audience moaned. They were really getting into the story.

'Well, the Commander rallies the troops, but they were surrounded and outnumbered. The only way out is to the south, but two giants, fifteen feet tall, are blocking the way. But Lord Kershel, he doesn't hesitate. He charges straight at the giants and cuts off the hand of one of them, then slashes it across its guts. The giant goes down and there's a hole in the enemy ranks. All the knights charge for the gap, aiming to break out.'

There was a murmur of admiration from the servants, admiration for the mighty Lord Kershel and his brave knights. Kiri was dubious though. It sounded as if Gar was embellishing the tale as he went.

'Just as the knights were smashing through the wall of their enemies, two ogres leap forward, one grabbing the Commander, the other going for his horse.' Groans. 'The Commander hacks at the ogres with his axe, cutting one of them clean in half. But before he can break free, the other giant steps up and swings this _huge_ hammer, hitting the Commander straight in the head.'

More moans from the audience. 'But his helm,' Carren broke in, 'The Commander's helm is magic, powerful magic. There's no way _anything_ could smash through that.'

'Nope,' Gar replied, 'but it didn't need to. That giant was so strong, the blow so powerful, didn't hurt the Commander's head none, but tore his neck clean off his shoulders. The Commander's head was still strapped inside the helm when it went flying into the crowd of orcs.'

Stunned silence throughout the room. Gar apparently realised that his description was a bit gruesome, _not_ the way to talk about the Order's Commander. He cleared his throat and hurriedly finished his story.

'Lord Vayrlan managed to rescue the Commander's body, but they had no chance to get his head, or the helm. It was all they could do to save themselves.'

Only silence greeted the end of the tale. Gar cleared his throat and shuffled his feet, suddenly unsure of himself. Carren stared blankly at the table-top. 'So,' she said slowly, 'The Commander is dead and the helm is lost. Another part of the Panoply gone.' She shook her head. 'This is a terrible loss for the Order.'

The silence stretched on several moments longer, until Carren pushed herself to her feet. 'Well, now we know what happened. But there's work to be done, so let's get to it!'

There was a great scraping, as the servants all pushed their benches back and stood, before bustling off to their duties.

Kiri followed behind, thinking about all she had heard.

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Chapter Three - Working

A working day always followed the same routine.

Up at dawn, breakfast in the hall, then cleaning the servants' quarters. This didn't take long - the servants' rooms only contained a bed and a chest for their clothes.

Next, the cleaners went across to the other side of the courtyard to clean the men-at-arms' quarters. There were six halls for the common soldiers, designed to hold six hundred people. But there were fewer than three hundred men-at-arms in the fortress. Even less now, after the events of the last few days.

The soldiers' rooms weren't very different from those of the servants. Just a bit more spacious, with a small table and chair, and a stand for the chainmail that all the soldiers wore. The rooms all smelled of oiled metal.

There was a break for lunch, then, after that, Kiri and the other cleaners trooped through the gate to the knights' section of the fortress to do the cleaning there. This took the rest of the day.

The knights had luxurious rooms. Many of them had wives, and even children, so they had suites of rooms to house their families. Kiri hated this part of the job. All the ladies were snobs and all the children were spoilt brats. Well, maybe not all of them, but Kiri didn't have a chance to get to know them. Nor did she want to.

She worked as quickly as she could, keeping her head down, her face hidden behind the curtain of her dirty curls. She spoke only when directly addressed, limiting her answers to a mumbled 'Yes, ma'm' or 'No, ma'm', and got out of there as fast as possible.

After that she moved onto some of the other areas of the knights' halls - the kitchens, the childrens' schoolrooms, the ladies' recreation room, the libraries, the study rooms, the training halls, and so on.

One good thing about the knights' halls - much of the work was done by magic. There were no fireplaces to empty of ash - magic kept the rooms at a comfortable temperature. There were no lanterns or candles to trim or fill - the rooms were lit by magically glowing globes. Best of all, there were no chamberpots. The knights had privies, which magically disposed of the waste.

Even so, it was still a lot of work, even with twenty cleaning women. The only areas they didn't have to clean were the stables, the blacksmith's forge, the armouries and the chapels.

Of course, they didn't go through the third gate either, to the last courtyard where the Great Tower stood. Only knights could pass through that gate. Anyone else who tried was pushed back by powerful magic.

Today, all of the knights were gathered in the Great Tower, to discuss what had happened, and to decide what the Order should do next. There was much gossip about it, both from the cleaning women and from the ladies - those who weren't grieving for lost husbands. Although Kiri didn't join in, she listened intently.

'They'll have to recall some of the knights from the chapterhouses. Maybe even close the one in Mear - it's not doing us much good there.' That, from one of the ladies.

'Lord Vayrlan can't be confirmed as Lord Commander until all of the Lord Marshals meet. And it'll take at least a fiveday to get them here from all the chapterhouses,' said Onni, one of the older cleaners.

'Yes, and they can't have Lord Kershel's funeral till they all meet, neither.' Another cleaner.

'I've heard that they're going to take all the knights of the Order and go back and get the helm. Well, they have to, don't they? They can't let orcs steal part of the Panoply.'

'But they can't do that! It would leave the chapterhouses practically unguarded!'

The chapterhouses? Kiri thought, What about the people the knights are supposed to protect? But none of the ladies mentioned the common people, concerned only with how the Order could best regain its power.

Kiri trudged back to the servants' quarters at dusk with the rest of the cleaners. Although the other women were still chattering, Kiri kept silent. She felt gloomy, as if a big, dark cloud hung above the fortress.

Fortunately, tomorrow was her day off.

It would be good to spend the day with her father.


	2. History

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Chapter Four - History

After breakfast, Kiri and the other servants who had the day off assembled at the Head Housekeeper's office. There were only two others, older women, one a cleaner, the other a cook. They chattered to each other but ignored Kiri. She had been in the fortress for over a year now, and the other servants knew she was always quiet.

The servants all got a half day off every five days, and a full day off on the tenth day. The tenth day was also their payday, so they would have some money to spend.

Carren came bustling up, unlocked her office and ushered them in. 'Alright, Onni, San and Kiri. You'll be wanting your pay.' Carren always said the same thing, meaningless routine as she fumbled in her desk for the ledger and the cash-box. 

Onni stepped forward to receive the coins that Carren counted into her hand, before signing the ledger to show that she had received her pay. She wrote her name in large, laborious letters, the sign of a near illiterate. San followed, then it was Kiri's turn.

Kiri looked at the coins as Carren placed them into her hand. Most of the coins showed the eight-pointed star of the Order, as the Order minted all the coins for the Arrel Plains. But some of the coins came from the south, and bore the image of the king of Brysse. Either it was a poor picture, or he was a very ugly king.

Just ten copper coins. One coin for each day - not a very good rate of pay. But then Kiri was just a cleaner. She wanted to sign the ledger with an elegant flourish, show them the skill that was being wasted. But she had learned that it was better not to draw attention to herself, so she contented herself with writing her name quickly and neatly.

Once Carren had locked everything away again, she led the three of them out of the hall, across the courtyard to the gate. There she spoke to the sergeant in charge. The man barely even looked at them, just waved them through, while Carren returned to the hall.

As they stepped into the gate house, seven men-at-arms also came up to the gate. Kiri looked back at them curiously. Presumably, they too had the day off, as the sergeant waved them through as well. Kiri didn't know what leave the soldiers got, she only knew that she saw a different lot each tenday. She had seen these soldiers around, of course, but she didn't know their names. She just kept her head down and avoided them all.

Although the men-at-arms weren't in uniform, only wearing their short swords, their profession was obvious. They were all tall and heavily muscled, broad shoulders and thick necks - even the women. There were two women in this group, and Kiri peered sideways at them, envious, as they all waited for the outer gate to open. She would give anything to be one of them.

When Kiri took up her position in the fortress, she had thought that it was a foot in the door, and that it would be only a matter of time before she was noticed by the Commander and invited to join the trainee knights. She had quickly realised how empty and foolish that hope was. The Commander, in fact, _all_ of the knights simply ignored the servants.

Furthermore, there _were_ no women knights, and hadn't been for over a hundred years. The Order no longer took women even as men-at-arms, and there were only about twenty women soldiers in the entire Order, most of them in their thirties or forties.

The huge stone gate finally opened, just wide enough for a person to walk through. Kiri hung back, waiting for the others to go first, then trailed along behind.

As soon as she stepped out of the gate, the late autumn wind swirled around her, brisk with a hint of snow. That was a powerful reminder of the magic built into the very stone of the Star Fortress. Inside its walls, the air never became cold, and even in the harshest blizzards of winter, no snow fell there.

Kiri looked back at the fortress walls. Thirty feet high, with watch towers rising another ten feet beyond that, made of perfectly smooth, blindingly white stone, every inch impregnated with magic. It looked impressive, well, it _was_ impressive, but when Kiri thought of how few men there were inside to defend those walls, they started to look a little fragile.

There was just a short narrow road, with steep cliffs falling away on either side, that joined the fortress to the main road over the Merishahn Mountains. The fortress was built on a plateau at the very top of the pass, built by magic obviously, as no masons would be able to work in such a harsh, remote environment.

The south end of the pass led down to the Marquan Hills, the sparsely populated northern border of the kingdom of Brysse. The Order had a chapter-house there, around which had grown a village, also called Marquan.

To the north, at the foot of the mountains, was the Arrel chapter-house. It too had sprouted a village. Past that, the road ran into the Arrel Plains, the broad expanse of fertile land about the great Arrel River, with the riverside cities of Venkenka, Mear and Vaelis.

But much closer, just a few miles down the road, in an expansive mountain valley, was the town of Silverdale - Kiri's home town. It would take nearly two hours to walk there on these winding mountain roads, longer on the way back up. Sometimes, the servants and soldiers could catch a lift on wagons going down to town to get supplies for the fortress, but not today.

Kiri quickened her pace. Already most of the men-at-arms and the other servants had disappeared around the bend in the road. Only the two women soldiers and one of the men were still visible in front of her. Kiri's steps faltered as she noticed that the younger woman was holding hands with the man. It looked strange, such a tender gesture between such hulking soldiers.

The older woman lagged behind her companions, and slowed even more as she turned to look at Kiri. Kiri immediately ducked her head, but the woman wasn't interested in her, she just wanted someone to talk to. Kiri glanced up at the woman. Early thirties, she judged, even though the woman's short brown hair was showing streaks of grey.

'See those two?' the woman said as she fell into step with the girl, 'They're not coming back. Can't say as I blame them. The Order's going downhill fast. Has been for years. It's no place for youngsters with their whole life ahead of them. I'm thinking of getting out, myself, but, y'know, we're getting a new Commander. I'll give him a chance, but if things aren't picking up by spring, I'll be off.'

Kiri's head whirled at this information. Did this woman mean... soldiers were _deserting_? She cleared her throat and cautiously asked this question. She winced as her voice cracked slightly. But she often went for days without speaking, so it wasn't surprising her voice sounded a bit rusty.

'Nah, not deserting. Exactly,' The soldier told her with a wry grin, 'Just... ah, quietly resigning. They left letters of resignation in their quarters, but the sergeants won't even find them until later tonight, maybe even tomorrow. By then, Chen and Ari will be long gone.' Kiri presumed that Chen and Ari were the two soldiers ahead, just disappearing around the next corner.

'They'll buy horses in town, then off north, round through Mear and east, I guess. Bit too risky to head back over the pass. The knights might spot them, and then they'd be in it.' She stopped. 'Hang on, here I am rambling on to you and I don't even know your name. I'm Marly.' The soldier stuck out her hand.

Kiri flinched. She really didn't want a soldier to know her name, but it would be awfully rude not to reply. She hesitantly placed her hand on Marly's and quietly said, 'I'm Kiri.'

'Kiri. You're a cleaner, aren't you?' Marly didn't wait for a reply, just turned and continued on her way down the pass. 'I know, I've seen you around. Bitch of a job, I bet. And you get paid sod all, too, right?' She glanced sideways, but Kiri just shrugged. She didn't want to get into a discussion about her pay.

'Ever notice that all the cleaners are women? And the cooks? That's all the Order thinks women are good for. Unless you're rich and pretty, then they'll let you have their babies. Boy babies, of course, to make more knights.' There was a distinct edge of bitterness to Marly's voice. It sounded as if this had been festering inside her for some time.

'Which is all pretty bloody ironic, when you think that two of the Order's three founders were women,' Marly continued.

'What?' Kiri said in astonishment. Her surprise made her look straight up at Marly, but she immediately remembered, and hid behind her hair again. Marly didn't seem to notice.

'Y'mean you don't know how the Order got started?' Marly's bitterness faded, and she regarded Kiri with amusement. Kiri shook her head. 'Well, then,' Marly said, ' I'd better educate you.'

Kiri bristled a bit at this. Her father had done an _excellent_ job of educating her. But she subsided without saying anything. Best just to keep quiet and keep walking.

'Well,' Marly began, 'It all started... must be over a thousand years ago, now. The three founders were adventurers, two sisters and their friend. There was Asharron, she was a great fighter. Some say she was a paladin, and I reckon she was.' Kiri had heard of Asharron, there was a song about her, but she hadn't known about the connection to the Order. For some reason, that wasn't mentioned. 

'Her sister was Tirrell, a highly skilled thief,' Marly continued. Kiri was surprised at this. A _thief_ was one of the founders of the Order of the Star?

Marly noticed. 'Yeah, surprising, I know, but thieves can use their skills for good, you know. Tirrell did, anyway. The third one, the man, he was a very powerful mage, name of Kershel. Yep, like our dead Commander was named after. Not that he lived up to the name,' she finished with a sour mutter.

She was silent for a few moments before continuing. 'Anyway, where do you think these great heroes came from? A tiny, stinking fishing village called Venkenka. Well, it was probably still called Venkekk back then, like the barbarians called it, but the place was tiny, only about a hundred people, mostly fisherfolk, a few farmers.'

'In fact, there weren't many people in all the Arrel Plains in those days. It was too hard to get to, over the mountains. Too cold, too out-of-the-way, too far north, too many barbarians and monsters roaming around. Course, this was before they discovered the silver mines.'

'Anyway, these three adventurers soon started clearing out the monsters. As they got more powerful, they started travelling further away, south to Brysse, east to Tiochan, and even beyond that. But they always came back to Venkenka.'

'As they went, they picked up fellow adventurers, people who would help them in their fight against evil. Soon there got to be so many of them that they needed to build themselves a headquarters. So they built up here, where they could do the most good. Not only was it difficult to attack, they could protect the pass, and patrol the Marquan Hills, the Arrel Plains, even out to Tiochan.'

'So, Kershel gathers together all of their mage friends and they all use their magic to chop the top off a mountain peak to make a plateau, then they build the fortress on that. They also smooth out the pass, make it much easier to cross. The town of Silverdale comes much later, after travellers over the pass found that valley made a great place to break their journey.'

'Then silver was discovered. First just out of Silverdale - that's how the place got its name - then elsewhere in the mountains. So a whole lot of prospectors come north, looking to get rich, some of them take up farming, more people come to the towns, merchants and craftsmen start up shops to sell to the people. Prosperity for everyone.'

Marly fell silent, and the two of them continued walking down the pass. Kiri was thinking about what she had learned. It sounded as if the Order had started off really well, doing good deeds, helping people and generally making the world a better place. So what happened to these ideals?

'How,' she finally asked, timidly, 'how did the Order... the knights, end up like... like they are now?'

'They started going bad a long time ago,' Marly told her, 'Well, not really bad, there's magic on the fortress that stops anything evil getting in, but they started looking out for themselves first, instead of worrying about other people. It began innocent enough, buying up properties, becoming landlords, but after a while they started charging too much. Then they made people pay tolls to cross the pass, when it had been free for centuries.'

'Then they got so into making money that they stopped patrolling properly, and people had to abandon their farms when the monsters came back. Well, less farms, less food for the towns. Less food, less people can live there. Less people, less goods the merchants can sell. So people move out, shops close down.'

'The worst came ten, twenty years back, when the silver mines started running out. They're only getting a bit of copper out of the big Silverdale mine now, and a lot of the others are empty. They're still looking for more, but no-one's found anything for ages. Well, that cuts out the major source of wealth for the area. No-one ever got rich from fish, and there are damn few farms left, less than a hundred all up, barely a handful north of the river. And instead of doing their job and protecting the farms, the knights are still trying to grab all the money they can.'

'But, the Commander,' Kiri protested, 'Commander Kershel _died_ fighting the orcs that were attacking the farms.'

'Ha! Is that the story they're telling? Those orcs weren't anywhere _near_ the farms, they were all way up north in the hills. The only reason the knights went after those orcs was because they hoped to get some treasure out of it. It was while we were looting the orcs' camp that we were attacked by the other lot.'

Marly ground her teeth. 'And what really burns me up is that we could have beaten them all, ogres and giants too, if the knights hadn't turned tail and run. They left us men-at-arms to fight our own way out.'

* * *

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Chapter Five - Home

Kiri paused in the doorway of the carpentry shop, breathing in all the familiar scents of wood, resin and varnish. These were the smells she always associated with home. Her father's shop was the only carpentry business in Silverdale - the town wasn't big enough to support two - but fifteen people worked here, making almost all the wooden products for the town, and for the merchants who passed through. 

Like most buildings in town, it had two floors. The bottom floor was where the rough, working items were made, carts and barrels. On the top floor, finer items were crafted, delicate carvings, and furniture, practical or elegant.

Kiri spotted her father on the far side of the workshop, deep in negotiations with a merchant over a piece of furniture. Even as he neared fifty, he was still a tall, vigorous and strong man. His golden-brown hair showed little grey, and the fine wrinkles of his face didn't mar his handsome features.

He hadn't seen her, so she slipped into the room and crept up behind him. She got there just in time to hear the men agree on a price - eighty three kurushi, the common name for the smaller gold coins minted by the Order of the Star. Kurushi meant _little yellow stars_ in Elvish, a reference to the emblem of the Order on the coin, though Kiri had no idea why the Elvish word was used. 

The merchant handed over the coins, then called over two porters to carry the item out. Kiri leaned around her father to see what it was, and raised her eyebrows. Although elaborately carved, the cabinet was not very big. Eighty three was a _very_ good price for such a piece.

As the merchant walked out, Kiri spoke up. 'Are you ripping off the poor merchants again, Papa?'

Her father spun around. 'Sal!' he cried, and grabbed her in a bear hug. Kiri grimaced. She had been called Sal when she was a child, until she was thirteen and had decided that, henceforth, she would be known as Kiri. Her father still forgot sometimes, though. 'Sorry, Kiri,' he corrected himself. Then he pulled her close and whispered in her ear, her full name, 'Salkirimarillias.'

Kiri felt happiness flood right through her body. If wood was the smell of home, her secret Elven name was surely the sound. Only she and her father knew that name, and she loved to hear it from his lips. She shook her hair back from her face and beamed at her father. 'Papa, I...'

She stopped suddenly, her smile vanished and all her happiness drained away as she caught sight of an apprentice. He had stopped planing a piece of wood in mid-stroke and he was _staring_ at her. The lout was practically drooling.

Her father quickly looked around to see what had upset her. The apprentice blanched, ducked his head and hurriedly resumed his work when faced with the furious glare of his master. Kiri grabbed her father by his wrist and pulled him into his private workroom. She pulled the door shut behind them and buried her face in her father's shoulder, while he wrapped his arms comfortingly around her.

Her life had been fine when she was a child. She could run around town, play with the other children, visit her friends' houses, just like any normal child. But when she reached puberty, it all changed. Everywhere she went, people would stare at her, leer at her, try to get her alone so they could grope at her in the most _disgusting_ fashion.

It wasn't just men, either. A lot of women treated her the same way. That was the main reason why she went to work at the fortress. She was sure that the noble knights of the Order wouldn't behave in such a crass manner.

She sure got that wrong. She had very little to do with the knights, but the people there were just like the people in town. By the end of her first day in the fortress, she had started wearing her disguise.

The servants' uniform was a brown tunic over brown trousers - hardly attractive at the best of times. But Kiri wore the baggiest tunic she could get, to hide her developing, willowy figure. She kept her hair long enough to cover her face, but not long enough to attract attention, and she kept it dirty and covered by an old scarf, so no-one could see its natural golden shine. She kept her face down, and smudged with dirt, so, she hoped, if anyone _did_ see her face, they would just see the dirt, not the perfect complexion, the fine, elegant cheekbones or the large green-and-gold eyes that she had inherited from her half-Elven mother.

And, of course, she didn't speak, unless she absolutely had to.

The only place where she was free to be herself was in her father's private rooms. He touched her under her chin, trying to get her to look up at him. 'Kiri. Kiri, love. Don't go back to the fortress. Stay here with me. I'll teach you...'

She interrupted him. 'Here, there - anywhere! What does it matter? People are...' Sobs choked her and she couldn't continue, but her father understood what she meant.

'At least here you would have some status, not be just one of the servants. If you took over some of my work, you would be the master's heir. Then no-one could treat you like... like...' He faltered to a halt, but _she_ understood what _he_ meant - _like some passing whore_.

Actually, his idea had merit, and she considered it. She remembered Marly saying, _"No place for youngsters with their whole life ahead of them."_ But she wasn't ready to give up her dream of becoming a knight. Not yet. She thought of something else Marly had said, _"We're getting a new Commander. I'll give him a chance."_ There was still hope.

She stepped back from her father and wiped her eyes. 'I'll stay there till spring. If... if things don't change, then... I'll come home.'

Her father looked doubtful. He clearly thought she was deluding herself, and, realistically, she probably was. But all he said was, 'Very well, if you're sure.' He turned to his workbench and said, 'Come and give me a hand with these lutes. A merchant wants them ready by tomorrow morning, so I've got to get them finished.' Kiri jumped forward, eager to forget her troubles in the delights of fine wood.

It was these instruments that had first introduced her father to Toramarillias, a wandering half-Elven bard. The bard's trip over the pass had been rough and she had asked around to find someone who could make the necessary repairs to her lute. Of course, Kiri's father, Markham, was the only person in Silverdale who had that skill - maybe the only person in the Arrel Plains.

Tora had stayed with Markham for several months before she resumed her wanderings. A year later, she had returned, bearing a baby she named Salkirimarillias. Tora stayed in Silverdale for some years, helping Markham to raise the baby, taking trips away to play at towns and cities in the region. But there were few opportunities for bards in this remote corner of the world, and her trips had got longer and longer, until eventually she simply didn't return. They didn't know where she was, or even if she was still alive.

Kiri hadn't seen her mother since she was seven years old, and could barely remember her.

The rest of the day passed in a happy, luxurious haze. Once they had finished working on the lutes, with a break for lunch, Kiri had heated a large bathful of water and had a long soak. She washed her hair, which hadn't been washed since the last time she had been home. Of course, she would have to grubby it again tomorrow, to resume her disguise, but at least for today it would be clean.

She dressed in some of her own clothes, not that ugly uniform - soft linen broadcloth trousers and shirt. She got her favourite book of poetry from her father's small collection and went upstairs to the balcony, where she could look out over the town without people looking back at her.

The sun was warm, a delightful contrast to the crisp air, and Kiri stretched out happily, opening her book - a book! There were no books for the servants in the fortress, and little time to read them anyway. 

Kiri drowsed away the rest of the afternoon in this delightful fashion until, at dusk, she wandered back inside to help her father prepare their supper. She wasn't much of a cook, but she loved working beside her father. And the food - pork chops and blackberry pie - was a lovely change from the usual stew that the servants ate.

After they had washed all the dishes, Kiri's father cleared his throat and spoke, a little hesitantly, 'Kiri, love, there's something I'd like you to do.' Her eyebrows rose, questioning. 'I asked that merchant to come and pick up the two lutes tonight. I'd like you to sit in on that.'

Her eyebrows rose again, this time in alarm. He hastened to reassure her. 'You don't need to do anything, or say anything to me or her. Just sit in the corner and read a book. But listen to what happens.'

Fifteen minutes later, Kiri was lying on a couch, reading a book in her father's workroom. He was softly playing on one of the lutes. The merchant was a bit late, but they finally heard the woman's knock on the outside door. 

Kiri's father got up to let the merchant in, giving Kiri a wink and a smile as he went out. A few moments later she heard him say, 'This way, just through here,' and he ushered the woman into the room. The merchant was an old woman, late fifties, her short hair grey, her face lined and weathered from years of travelling.

She immediately stepped up to the table to inspect the two lutes, all business, but then she noticed Kiri sitting in the corner. The merchant forgot what she was there for and stared, stared at that smooth honey skin, glowing in the lantern light, those bright curls, shining like real gold, and those big green eyes set in that exquisite face, so fine.

Kiri didn't look up, but she noticed that her father also stared for a moment, before he coughed and turned to the transaction at hand. 'Now, are you satisfied with the quality of the goods?'

'Oh, yes,' the woman breathed, then caught herself with a start, 'Uh, what?'

Markham suppressed a smile, and gestured to the table. 'The lutes. Do they meet with your approval?' He picked one up and strummed his fingers across the strings, demonstrating the tone of the instrument.

'Oh! Yes, yes, they are very... very... fine.' But her eyes, and her mind, had already turned back to the girl in the corner. Kiri was feeling _very_ uncomfortable.

'So, the payment,' but Markham's words didn't register with the merchant. He played a quick, jaunty tune on one of the lutes and that brought the woman's eyes back to him. 'The payment?' he prompted.

'Oh, yes,' she said, 'Um, the money.' She fumbled her purse open on the table. 'Sixty each, wasn't it?' She started laying coins on the table, but she wasn't watching what she was doing - her eyes had wandered off again.

'Allow me,' Markham gallantly offered, and now Kiri had to fight to keep her jaw from dropping open. The merchant was actually letting Markham rummage through her purse! _And_ the old cow was unconsciously rubbing her hands up and down her thighs. Kiri was disgusted.

Kiri's father quickly sorted out the coins, stuffed the two lutes into their leather cases and placed lutes and purse into the merchant's arms. 'A pleasure doing business with you.' The woman looked blankly at him, and he had to effectively push her out the door. Apparently, her wits returned once she was out of the room, for Kiri heard her inquire, 'Who is that lovely young lady?'

Kiri snorted at that. _Lady_. Not bloody likely.

Markham soon returned to the room, laughing softly and rubbing his hands together. Kiri stopped pretending to read and sat up. 'Just what was the purpose of that, Papa?'

He spread his hands. 'How many coins do I have here, Kiri, love?'

She crossed to the table and quickly added them up. 'One hundred and... _thirty_. Papa, that's stealing!'

'Oh, I'm sure she would gladly pay another ten for a second look at you. Of course, my careful scene arrangement and lighting certainly showed you off well. Anyway, when that woman gets to Brysse, she'll sell those lutes for twice what she paid for them'

Kiri shuffled, uncomfortably. 'It... it makes me feel dirty. As if people's eyes leave filth and slime on me.'

Her father took her by the shoulders. 'Kiri, love, you are beautiful, stunningly beautiful. I know you have suffered because of that, but you need to see, it doesn't have to be a burden.' He lifted her hand and dropped the extra ten coins into her palm. 'In business, you can use it to your advantage.'

That night, after her father had tucked her into bed and kissed her good-night, Kiri lay awake for a long time, staring at two piles of coins on her bedside table.

There were ten coins in each pile, but one lot was copper, the other was gold.


	3. Marly

****

Chapter Six - Marly

The eastern sky was just beginning to lighten as Kiri jogged up the pass. Staying overnight with her father meant that she had to get up before dawn if she was to get back to the fortress in time to start work. But it was worth it, to sleep in her own bed, and to have breakfast with her father.

And on days like this, getting up before dawn was a pleasure in itself. The air was chill, the sky clear, a few stars lingering above. In the dark western sky, both moons were clearly visible - Mistheros, just past full, looking like a small silver coin, and tiny Irris, a point of glowing light.

The broad valley of Silverdale stretched out below, its glistening stream meandering down the middle. A few curls of smoke rose up from the town, and down the valley there was the soft, distant lowing of cattle.

The town was built on the far side, actually climbing up the valley wall in terraces. This allowed most of the land to be used for farming. The upper end was used by the Order to pasture their warhorses, and to run the breeding mares and their foals.

The lower end of the valley was occupied by twelve family-run farms, surprisingly productive for this altitude. Although these farms provided a lot of the town's food, they couldn't supply all of it. So there were regular loads of foodstuffs which were brought up the mountains from the Arrel Plains.

In a small side valley, down the far end, there were the silver mines. Although the big mine was now only producing copper, there were a number of smaller, newer shafts that still provided silver, albeit in smaller quantities. A smelter at the mouth of the little valley turned the ore into ingots. Most of these went to the cities, but there were quite a few craftspeople in Silverdale who worked in silver, making jewellery and the like.

As Kiri came up to another bend in the road, she paused a moment for one last look, before the road turned behind a ridge and the valley was lost to sight. She leaned on the low stone wall that lined the road and looked out over the mountains, where the sunrise was just lighting the peaks. 

'Good morning, Kiri!' She had thought she was alone on the road, and had been so engrossed in the beauty before her, she hadn't heard the woman coming up behind her. Startled, she whirled around, her heart thumping, to see who knew her name. It was Marly, the soldier she had met yesterday. The woman was smiling at her, but her expression changed to one of awed astonishment as she got a good look at Kiri's face.

Kiri realised her mistake. She was once more wearing her shapeless uniform, but her scarf was still in her pocket, and she had forgotten to dirty her hair and face again. Miserably, she ducked her head, hunched her shoulders and scurried off up the road.

Of course, it was futile. Marly hesitated for a moment, then lengthened her stride to catch up. 'Kiri,' she began slowly, then blurted, 'What in the world are you doing as a _cleaner_?' in tones of deepest incredulity.

Kiri spun around and snapped at her, 'What do you expect me to do, become a _whore_?' But that little flare wasn't like her, and she quickly ducked her head again. But she knew where that flash of temper came from. She felt that she was running out of options.

Her father's comments last night, about using her face to gain an advantage in business, were ridiculous. She was sure that the first time she tried it without her father there to protect her, she would end up being kidnapped, raped and sold into slavery. And what else was there for her? Her chances of becoming a knight were slim, more like non-existent, and she definitely didn't want to remain a cleaner for the rest of her life.

Marly reached out a hand to her. 'I'm sorry, I...' Kiri flinched away. Was this the prelude to a grab, a grope? But the woman made no further move towards her, just looked at her sadly, and Kiri calmed again.

A drying mud puddle sat to one side of the road, and Kiri took this opportunity to apply her disguise. She quickly scooped up a handful of mud and rubbed it into her hair, making sure to cover it all, then smearing her hands down over her face. She shook her head to get rid of any excess, then pulled the scarf from her pocket and tied it over her head.

Kiri turned back to the road to see Marly staring at her in horror. The soldier struggled for words for a few moments, before saying, lamely, 'You shouldn't have to hide your face.'

Kiri snorted, and muttered, 'In a perfect world. Which this _isn't_.' She turned and resumed walking. Marly fell into step beside her, and they walked in silence for several minutes.

'You know, you could use a scarf to cover your face,' Marly ventured, 'or perhaps a veil. Then no-one could see you.'

Kiri shook her head. That would just make people curious about what she was hiding, and they would spy on her, and it would do nothing to conceal her hair or body.

'Or maybe a mask,' Marly tried again.

A mask? Perplexed, Kiri peered up, and saw that the woman was giving her a weak grin. Oh. A joke. When was the last time she had heard one of those? Her lips twitched, but she didn't have the heart to smile.

'No,' she said softly, 'The only thing I want covering my face is a helm.'

'You want to be a _warrior_?' Marly was startled into silence.

A few minutes later she suggested, cautiously, '_I_ could teach you. If you like. I mean,' she hurriedly added, 'it would have to be in secret. The sergeants probably wouldn't like it, and I'm sure the knights wouldn't.'

Kiri looked up in surprise, as Marly continued, 'I've been thinking about leaving the Order. If we went together, we could get work as merchant's guards. Maybe even form our own guard company,' she finished expansively.

Kiri was dumbstruck. Another option! She had never even considered this possibility. But could Marly be trusted, or was she just another scheming lecher?

Kiri looked at Marly's broad, honest face and started to relax. But no. Kiri had seen lust in all its guises, and the desire in the woman's eyes was plain to see.

Disappointed, she started to shrink away, then stopped.

Actually, Marly appeared to be genuinely nice. Her smile was warm, and it seemed to melt the frozen bitterness that Kiri felt inside. She tried a tentative smile, and was rewarded with a delighted grin, not a pervert's leer

Kiri's smiled broadened with relief and happiness. Her long loneliness seemed to be coming to an end.

* * *

****

Chapter Seven - Training

There was a soft, cold rain falling as Kiri carefully and quietly stepped out of the servants' hall into the night air. She quickly walked to the end of the building, but stopped before entering the wide courtyard. She had never been out at night before - she'd had no reason to - and she'd never realised how much light there was. Although it was full night, the magical lights at the guard posts by the gates softly lit the courtyard. If she went out there, she would be clearly visible. She shrank back into the shadows and tried to think what to do.

She had discussed with Marly how they should go about their covert training sessions, and they had decided that it would be better for Kiri to go to Marly's quarters. It would have been rather difficult for Marly to explain, if she was seen, why she was wandering around the servants' hall with a pair of training blades. They had also decided not to start that night - they would have been too tired after rising before dawn - and the next day Marly was on night duty, as she was every second day. Tonight was their first chance to put their plans into action.

Although Kiri and Marly had not spoken in the days since their walk up the pass, Kiri had seen the little smiles that the woman had sent in her direction whenever they had passed during their respective duties. It was surprising how much nicer the fortress seemed when she had a friend there. A _real_ friend, that is, not like Shel. She hadn't seen him for days, but he hadn't come looking for her. Apparently Shel didn't think much of _her_ as a friend, either.

Kiri was still trying to think how she could get across the courtyard when she heard the door open behind her. Someone else was coming out of the servants' hall. Panicked, Kiri quickly looked about for somewhere to hide. Someone had left three wooden boxes in a pile by the wall, and she hastily crouched down behind them.

Her nose scrunched up as she smelled the stench of old fish coming from the boxes. Obviously, they had come from the kitchens, and had been left here for disposal. She felt a sudden flash of alarm. What if those footsteps she heard was from servants coming to clear away these boxes?

But the servants kept walking. Kiri heard the women talking and muffling giggles, and, curious, she peered out at them. It was a pair of the younger servant women, but they weren't wearing their uniforms. They had cloaks, to protect themselves from the rain, but under that they wore dresses, with low-cut bodices. Kiri ducked back as more footsteps approached.

More servant women passed, in ones and twos, all similarly dressed, eight of them in all. They confidently stepped out into the courtyard, talking in low voices. The guards turned to watch the women, but made no move to stop or question them.

When the women stepped up to the men-at-arms' hall, Kiri suddenly understood. She was not the only servant woman trysting with a soldier tonight. No wonder Marly had thought Kiri could easily get to her quarters. The guards would think she was just another one of these women.

But she didn't want to be recognised. There wasn't enough light for the guards to see her face, but she tucked her curls up under her scarf. She grabbed a handful of her tunic and pulled it tighter at the waist, making herself look thinner, but let it billow out above, giving the appearance of a large, womanly bust. Then, taking small steps as if she wore a tight skirt, Kiri briskly walked across the courtyard to the men-at-arms' hall.

She didn't go in the door, though, instead turning down one side. Marly's window was the sixth one past the dining hall. The dining hall was brightly lit by lanterns, and Kiri glanced in as she passed, then stopped.

Inside, the servant women were lounging about on benches and tables, men clustered closely around them. The men were leering widely at the women, and Kiri saw a man grab one woman's breasts. Kiri winced in sympathy, remembering all the times when she had been on the receiving end of similar lecherous behaviour.

The woman inside didn't seem to mind though. She laughed and stood up, holding her hand out to the man. He took her hand and led her off to one of the rooms. But Kiri had seen the flash of coins changing hands and she turned away, appalled. These women weren't meeting lovers, they were... supplementing their income.

She shook her head at her own ignorance. She'd had no idea such things happened within the fortress. So much for the noble Order of the Star. She shook her head again, in distaste. She decided that she'd rather not think about it, and hurried on.

Marly was waiting at her window and easily lifted the slender girl up and into her room. They exchanged smiles and hugs of greeting, then Kiri turned to look around. She frowned. There wasn't much space to move about in the room. 

Marly's chainmail hung on its stand, her helm perched on top, and her small round shield was leaning against the base. The two swords that all the men-at-arms used hung from one arm of the stand. There was a long sword, which was their usual weapon, but they also had a short sword for close quarters fighting.

'So, how are we going to do this?' Kiri asked. She turned to see Marly gazing at her dreamily.

The woman shook herself. 'Um, well, uh, I thought we could pile all the furniture up to give us more room. If we put it in front of the door, that would stop anyone from barging in on us. We shouldn't have to worry about noise - these walls are pretty thick - but just in case, I've covered the blades in cloth. That should muffle the sound.' She gestured to the table where the training swords lay.

Kiri walked over and picked one up. They were short swords, made of polished wood, but heavier than she had expected. Marly picked up the other one and explained. 'They're weighted with lead, to give them the heft and balance of real swords. I thought we should start with short swords. We really don't have enough room in here for long swords.'

Kiri straightened up, and said, 'Well, let's...' She trailed off in surprise. Marly looked back at her, equally surprised. Kiri had thought that the soldiers were all amazingly tall, but actually, when she wasn't hunched over, she was just as tall! She could look Marly straight in the eye.

Of course, the woman was a lot bulkier. With her broad shoulders, she was about twice as wide as Kiri, and her dense muscles probably made her three times as heavy.

Marly's eyes softened, and she pursed her lips slightly, leaning forwards. Alarmed, Kiri stepped back and turned away. 'Let's get to it,' she said, trying to get back to business.

Marly gave a disappointed sigh, barely audible, but quickly got to work. They put the bed against the door, then stacked the rest of the furniture around it. As she dragged the chest out of the way, Marly said, 'While I remember, I'd better give you these. Do you have anywhere you can keep something safe?' She unlocked the chest, flipped its lid up, and started rummaging inside.

Kiri shook her head. 'No, the chests in our quarters can't be locked.'

'Well, doesn't matter too much.' Marly pulled out two steel bars, one long, one short. 'If anyone finds these in your room, it might look funny, but they shouldn't be suspicious.' Kiri looked at her, confused, and Marly explained. 'These are about the same length and weight as the swords. I thought you could keep these in your room and practice the moves with them whenever you've got a bit of spare time.'

Kiri nodded. 'That's a good idea.' She took the bars and weighed them in her hands, thoughtfully. Then she placed them against the windowsill where she would remember to collect them on her way out.

Marly started to hand her one of the training swords, then stopped, frowning. 'That's a very bulky tunic. I'm not sure you'll be able to move properly in that.'

Kiri shrugged, pulled the garment off over her head, leaving just her undershirt, and tossed it onto the bed. She turned around, and Marly was gaping at her, eyes wide and her gaze roaming up and down Kiri's slender body.

Kiri blushed hotly. She stepped forward, snatched the sword out of the woman's grasp and briskly said, 'Now. Where do I start?'

'Ah. Yes. The short sword.' Marly brought her mind back to the task at hand. 'The first thing is getting the right grip.' Kiri immediately tightened her grasp on the sword. 'No, not like that. If you hold it that tightly, your muscles will be aching within minutes. Just a light grip.' She stepped forward to adjust Kiri's hand. 'Turn the blade in line with your arm... Thumb there... That's it.'

'Next. A short sword is for stabbing, or else chopping. Not slashing, that's what a long sword is for...'

The instruction lasted for an hour, and in that time Kiri learned the proper way to stand, the way to hold her body, and a pattern of moves that would teach her the basic strokes, if she practiced enough.

At the end of the hour, Kiri was exhausted and dripping sweat. She had thought she was pretty fit from all the cleaning work she did, but wielding a sword used a totally different set of muscles.

She helped lift the furniture back into position, then sagged wearily onto the bed to pull her tunic back on. Marly sat down beside her and cautiously put an arm around her. That felt nice, and so different from her father's hugs, which was all she had to compare it to. She leaned into Marly's embrace and tiredly closed her eyes.

She felt Marly's lips, warm and soft on her cheek, and that was nice, too. But then she suddenly remembered what the other servant women were doing in the adjoining rooms, and she awkwardly scrambled to her feet, a hot blush on her cheeks.

'I... I'd best be getting back,' Kiri said, avoiding Marly's eyes.

Marly stood, too. 'Sure, but... same time, same place, two days from now, alright?' She was grinning, and Kiri grinned back, sheepishly. 'And remember to practice.'

Kiri climbed out the window. Marly handed the steel bars out to her, then waved as she headed back to her own quarters.

* * *

****

Chapter Eight - Winter

Steel flashed, guided by long, sleekly muscled limbs in an intricate dance.

Kiri had long since mastered the basic moves, and the pattern she now displayed consisted of advanced, difficult manoeuvres. She completed it smoothly, then, without stopping, she transferred the sword to her left hand and went through the pattern again. She wasn't as good with the left hand and she had to slow down a bit, but she finished it without a single mistake.

Marly, watching from the bed, applauded. 'That was brilliant, Kiri. You make it look so effortless. Most fighters would look like lumbering oxen alongside you. And I'm amazed that you're so good with your left hand.' She smiled broadly to show her approval, and Kiri gave her a huge, dazzling smile back.

After one and a half months of sword training, Kiri was no longer the hunched, scuttling, fearful servant girl. The muscles she had developed, the skills she had learned, and, most of all, Marly's friendship, had given her a huge boost of confidence.

In public, she still ducked her head and hid behind her dirty hair, but it no longer came naturally to her. In private, with Marly, she stood up straight and tall, and she met Marly's eyes with a clear and direct gaze.

Their relationship had changed, too, as Kiri had changed. She had started to initiate contact between them, rather than simply allowing Marly to do it. And she took just as much pleasure in their long, passionate kisses. But although she knew that Marly wanted to take it further, she was still hesitant about getting into bed with her.

Marly tossed her the scabbard for the sword. Kiri sheathed it, then threw it back. Marly stood and stretched, then said with a wicked smirk, 'I think it's time for a little sparring. With long swords.'

Kiri pulled a face. She had only been working with the long sword for a few weeks, and she still felt clumsy with it.

Marly handed Kiri one of the training swords, and she immediately took up a ready stance. Marly took the other sword and slowly brought it up in a guard position. She met Kiri's eye, and instantly lunged.

Kiri wasn't fooled, though. She knew that trick. She quickly sidestepped and counter-attacked.

Kiri was naturally faster and more agile, but she couldn't use that to full advantage in the close confines of the small room. That worked both ways, though. Marly didn't have room for the huge sweeping blows that made her strength so devastating.

That made skill the deciding factor, and there could be no doubt about the outcome. After only a dozen blows, Kiri felt her sword twisted out of her hand. It struck the wall and clattered to the floor. Kiri didn't hesitate, though. She immediately pounced after it, scooped it up, and swung round in a defensive stance.

The first time Kiri had been disarmed in sparring, she had just stood there, thinking that the bout was ended. Marly had quickly disabused her of that notion with a painful whack. Kiri didn't make that mistake again.

Now Kiri found herself backed into a corner between the bed and the wall, where she couldn't move. She tried a flurry of quick darting strikes but Marly blocked each one solidly. Suddenly, Marly kicked her in the leg. Kiri collapsed on the bed, and before she could bring her sword back up, she felt Marly's blade touch her throat.

'Your whole body, Kiri. You fight with your whole body, not just your arms.' Marly plucked the sword from Kiri's hand and placed both of them to one side.

Kiri struggled up onto the bed and sat there, rubbing her poorly abused leg.

'Y'know what you should have done?' Marly continued, 'You should have jumped up on the bed. From up there you could have rained blows down on my head. I'd have been blocking high, and that's always tiring. Y'could have worn me out pretty quick.'

Kiri nodded thoughtfully. Marly was a good teacher and her words were worth remembering. After a moment Marly joined her on the bed, putting her arms around her. Kiri smiled and raised her face for a kiss.

Marly finally pulled back. 'You know, it's the Midwinter Festival, a tenday from now. Were you here for the last one?'

Kiri nodded. The Festival wasn't much fun. There was a religious ceremony at dawn, conducted by the priests from the three chapels in the fortress. There were nine priests, three in each chapel, and that was about all they did, conduct ceremonies. Well, they did do a bit of healing now and again, but the young ones, the novices, couldn't even do that much.

There were ceremonies at mid-day and dusk as well, on Midwinter Festival, but few people hung around for that. Almost everyone had the day off, and most went down to Silverdale, where the Festival was bigger, and more festive.

Almost everyone... except the soldiers who had to do guard duty. 'You're not on duty that day, are you?' Kiri asked in sudden worry.

'The guard roster was put out this morning,' Marly reassured her, 'and I have the whole day off. So,' she grinned, 'do you have any plans for that day?'

'Well, actually I do,' Kiri laughed, 'I thought I would take you home to meet my father.' Their leave days had not coincided since the day they first met, so Markham had yet to meet the woman who had made his daughter so happy.

'Then after that...' Kiri hesitated, then continued in a rush, 'After that I want to take you to my room, shut the door, and spend the rest of the day in bed with you.'

A huge grin spread over Marly's face. 'That,' she said, 'sounds like an _excellent_ plan.' She swept Kiri up in a tight embrace and proceeded to cover her face with kisses.

Suddenly, Kiri stiffened. 'Wait,' she said, holding up a hand, 'I've just thought of something. Marly, we don't have to stay here until spring!'

'What!?'

'We can go and live with my father. Oh, I wish I'd thought of this ages ago!'

Marly's mouth opened and shut several times before she managed to say, 'Live with your father? Kiri, are you sure? I mean, would he let me stay there?'

'Of course, of course he would. After all you have done for me, how could he not?'

'Well, that'd be great, if he did. Kiri, you'd better be sure about this. I mean, I've got a bit of money saved, but not enough to buy my equipment _and_ last me until spring.'

'I'm sure, I'm sure! Oh, Marly, it will be perfect!'

Marly smiled. Kiri's enthusiasm was impossible to resist. 'If you're sure, then first thing tomorrow morning, I'll tell the sergeant I'm resigning. I've been here nearly sixteen years, so they'll let me keep my swords. What?' she said to Kiri, who was gaping at her.

'You've been with the Order nearly sixteen years? _I'm_ sixteen years old!' and Kiri burst into laughter.

'Oh, sure, make me feel old!' Marly retorted, but then she sobered, looking at her swords. 'Sixteen years, and this is all it amounts to. I bet they'll be glad to see me leave. There's no place for women in the Order, that's plain enough.'

The new Commander had taken on an extra twenty trainee knights, all sons or grandsons of former knights. Other than that, things had continued exactly the same as they had under Lord Kershel. If Kiri had still been hoping to become a knight... well, it was a good thing she had found another option.

She put her arms around Marly's shoulders. 'It'll be all right. It'll be a new beginning, for both of us. We'll be together every day,' she paused, grinned, 'and every night.'

Marly looked up, the smile came back to her face, and their lips met.

Half an hour later, Kiri managed to drag herself away. After a last, lingering kiss, she slipped out the window.

Kiri stopped just as she stepped out into the courtyard, when she suddenly felt an unpleasant sensation. Was it a foul smell? A strange chill in the air? No, it wasn't either of those, but...

She looked around, puzzled, as she tried to work out what it was that caused her sudden unease. Everything looked to be normal, peaceful. There were the guards at the gates, just as they should be, and there were the guards on the wall... _On the wall_.

They're just guards, she tried to tell herself, but she had the strange certainty that those shadowy shapes weren't even human. There, there were the guards standing sentry duty on the walls, clearly visible, not shadowed at all. Even as she watched, the shadows moved, flowed along the walls until they came to the men, and the guards fell, swiftly and silently.

Kiri gaped in horror. Some... _things_ had just killed the sentries!

She looked wildly about for the other guards, but none of them, not the ones at the main gates, nor the ones at the gate into the inner courtyard, none of them had noticed anything.

Kiri wanted to call out, to tell them, to warn them, but her voice was frozen in her throat.

Not that it would have mattered.

More shadows flowed over the walls, dropped to the ground and tore the guards apart.

Panic stricken, Kiri stumbled back, staring at the slaughter before her, until she hit the wall of a building.

One of the shadows heard her.

It looked up at her from where it crouched over the body of a guard.

Its eyes burned red, and blood dripped from its jaws.


	4. Attack

****

Chapter Nine - Attack

Marly quickly came to the window in response to the frantic banging, flinging it open and staring at the panic stricken girl standing below her. 'Kiri, what is it? What's wrong?'

Kiri sobbed, 'There's things, they came over the wall, they killed the guards, all of them!' She glanced back towards the courtyard, her eyes wide with fear.

'Things?' Marly reached down and hauled Kiri up and into the room. 'What kind of things?'

They're...' Kiri was shaking. 'They're all dark, and shadowy. And their eyes glow red!'

Marly's face hardened. 'Sounds like some sort of undead. Though they could be just assassins under scary illusions.'

Kiri started to shake her head, then froze, like a rabbit beneath a hawk.

Marly had been turning for the door. 'What is it?' she demanded urgently, 'Kiri?' Then she, too, could hear it. A deep _thrumm_, as something huge beat the air above them. Then came a _CRACK!_ and a loud, low rumble, like a building collapsing. The whole hall seemed to vibrate with it.

'Shut the window!' Marly yelled, then ran for the corridor, where she bellowed with surprising volume, 'UP AND ARM! WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!'

She shot back into the room, and started snatching up her armour, strapping on her helm and then shaking on the chainmail as if it were a linen shirt. 'There should be alarms, but if all the guards are dead... Kiri, can you see anything?'

Kiri turned from where she stood at the closed window. 'No, there's just...' She stopped, wincing, as a loud wailing suddenly echoed through the room.

'There's the alarm!' Marly shouted over the noise. 'Someone's still alive out there!' She belted on her swords, and reached for her shield.

Kiri flinched back from the window as a sudden explosion of fire flared somewhere outside for a brief moment. The alarms ceased abruptly.

Marly froze. 'Crap,' she swore softly, then spun for the door. 'Stay here!' she shouted over her shoulder, 'Barricade the door!'

'But,' Kiri said weakly, as Marly disappeared into the corridor, 'I can fight.' But, truthfully, she didn't feel much like a warrior.

More doors crashed open, as the men-at-arms stumbled sleepily from their rooms. 'What's going on?' one man asked, yawning.

'Probably just a drill,' another soldier replied, buckling his sword belt.

Their demeanour changed rapidly, as Marly's yell came from further down the hall, 'Undead in the courtyard!' The men swore, and ran.

Kiri turned back to the window, but she could see very little. Something was burning, she could tell that much. Smoke was rising into the air, lit red by flames somewhere below, out of sight. Suddenly, something reared up in front of the window and Kiri lurched backwards, letting out a tiny squeak of fright. This thing was not shadowy, but more human, except with brown, leprous skin, and a mouth full of pointed teeth.

It slammed a large clawed hand against the window, and Kiri jumped back further. The window was not made of glass, though, but something much stronger, and it didn't break. The creature tried five more times, even hurling its whole body at the window, before it gave up and sloped off into the darkness.

Kiri stared after it, her heart thumping. Marly was out there, fighting those things. She couldn't stay safe in here, while Marly was in danger. What had all her sword training been for, if she just cowered at the sight of monsters? She turned, and headed for the door.

She stopped as she saw the training swords, still lying on the table. Well, they'd be better than nothing. They didn't have sharp edges, but Kiri knew from experience that they could deliver a brutal thump.

She pulled up her tunic so that she could stick both the short swords into her belt, then picked up one of the long swords. She was better with the short swords, but the long sword would give her more reach. She wanted to keep those _things_ as far away as possible.

When she got to the men-at-arms' dining hall, Kiri could hear shouts, screams, and strange eerie shrieks, but she could see nothing. The light from the lanterns that lit the hall reflected off the windows, preventing her from seeing what was happening outside.

Her heart beat painfully, but she wouldn't let fear stop her. She pulled open the door, wincing a little as the noise abruptly became much louder. She stepped outside, and stopped, staring in shock at the scene lit by burning buildings.

The gatehouses at each end of the courtyard had collapsed, their lights extinguished. A vast horde of monstrous creatures poured over the rubble of the main gate to flow around, and over, the struggling groups of soldiers. There was no sign of Marly in that brawling mass. More creatures poured into the inner courtyard, and, overhead, a gigantic dark shape circled.

A blast of fire shot from the flying creature's mouth, to strike somewhere in the inner courtyards. In the wash of light, Kiri could identify the monster. A dragon! But skeletal, with tattered flesh hanging from its bones. It was huge, with a wingspan over one hundred and twenty feet, though how could it fly with so many holes in its wings? Its whipping tail stretched one hundred feet from the skull, where fire burned in its eyes.

Poised upon its back, a human figure pointed a sword. A pale blue beam sprang from the blade, hitting a building with a resounding crack. A moment later, there was another rumble of falling stone.

Kiri's mouth hung open as she stared. Nothing in her training had prepared her for this, the reality of warfare. All the sparring, and the patterns she had learned, now seemed like a child's pastime, frivolous and futile.

But somewhere out in that mass Marly was battling for her life. Kiri looked around desperately for something - anything! - she could do to help. 

Her eye fell on a soldier's body, fallen not three feet from the door. His lower jaw had been torn off and his chainmail was shredded. But Kiri was looking at his long sword, lying a few inches from his hand. That would be better than a wooden sword!

She dropped the training sword and reached for the steel weapon. Then she looked at the dead man-at-arms. A steel short sword would be good, too. Careful not to look at his ruined face, Kiri unbuckled the soldier's sword belt and put it on. It was uncomfortable over the training swords stuck in her belt, but their hilts were all that held it up. The belt was much too big for her.

She was trying to settle the sword belt more comfortably, when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw something leap towards her. She grabbed for the long sword, swinging it up even as she scrabbled backwards.

A creature like the one that had tried to break through the window landed in front of her, and swung its long clawed arm at her face. Kiri automatically blocked, slashing the monster's arm, then counter attacked, her blow almost severing its head.

Kiri stared in amazement as the undead creature fell. That had been just like the moves from one of the patterns she had learned! Her training wasn't as useless as she had thought. But her relief was short-lived, as more monsters left the main battle and swarmed toward her, at least a dozen of them.

She couldn't hope to fight so many. She turned and ran, but there was nowhere to go. If she went down the side of the men-at-arms' hall she would be cornered against the wall with no way out. Nor could she get into the inner courtyard, for the rubble of its gatehouse was crowded with undead. Even as she watched, a knight dressed in a cuirass was dragged down and torn to pieces as he tried to break through. His glowing sword flew from his grasp and clattered down the rubble.

Glowing? A magic sword! Kiri ran forward and, dropping the other sword, picked up the magical blade from where it lay.

But now what? Even with a magic sword she couldn't fight her way through this mass. She was trapped! But she seemed to recall something Marly had told her in training... Just tonight, in fact, only an hour ago, as unbelievable as that seemed.

_"Y'know what you should have done? You should have jumped up on the bed."_ She had to get up higher! 

The ruin of the gatehouse was already occupied by the enemy, but its fall had torn down a chunk of the wall alongside it, leaving a long slide of debris. If she could get up that...

Quickly sheathing the magic sword, Kiri leaped for the broken wall and swung herself up. The undead below hissed and shrieked, but chunks of stone tumbling down from Kiri's rush up the rock slide drove them back, and she gained the top of the wall unhindered.

There she stopped, looking out over the nightmare below her. One wing of the knights' hall had fallen and there were flames in the ruins. A small group of knights battled in front of the broken gatehouse, trying to break through to the protection of the Great Tower. Piles of enemy bodies lay around them, but whenever they tried to climb over the rubble, they were driven back by blasts of dragonfire and blue beams of light.

As the skeletal dragon swept around for another run, its wing tip scraped the Great Tower. A blinding flash of pure white light erupted from the tower, and Kiri stumbled back, blinking furiously.

As she rubbed her eyes, trying to get her sight back, and trying to work out what had just happened, she felt sharp claws rake across her thigh. The undead had used her distraction to follow her up the slope and three of them were climbing onto the wall.

Kiri drew her sword, but it stuck. She tugged at it, swearing. Drawing a sword in battle was something her lessons hadn't covered. She finally got it free and swung at one of the monsters, gouging it deeply in the shoulder. It fell back down the slope, but the other two were already up, and more were coming over the edge. Kiri realised she had lost the advantage of the high ground. She turned and ran.

The door to the watch tower stood open in front of her, a rectangle of greater darkness. If she could get in there she could... No, that would be just another trap. She ran straight past the door, heading along the wall towards the main gate.

As she passed the tower door, a shadow leaped at her out of the gloom. She slashed at it without stopping, but she didn't hit anything, and the blow swung her off balance. She bounced off the battlements, pushed herself back upright and kept on running.

Halfway along the wall, she tripped over something, the body of one of the sentries. She fell heavily, the sword slipping from her grip and clashing on the stone. She quickly scrabbled after it, but just as her fingers closed on the hilt, she felt the shadow tear at her leg.

She screamed, not just at the pain of the wound, but from the deathly cold that the creature's touch sent deep into her bones.

She twisted, striking out at the shadow creature. It was bending over her, and leaped back to avoid the blow - right off the edge of the wall. It plummeted to the courtyard below. Kiri pushed herself back up, wincing at the pain in her leg, and started off again. The cold soon dissipated, and she was able to run almost normally, though she was starting to feel a growing weakness and nausea from her wounds.

She looked back over her shoulder to see where the other undead were. They had fallen a long way behind, apparently distracted by something in the inner courtyard, but now they were after her again.

She reached the ruin of the gatehouse and paused for a moment, looking back over the fortress. The dragon was nowhere in sight. She couldn't see if any knights still fought in the inner courtyard, but below her only undead still moved. The smithy and the servants' hall were burning, and the creatures avoided the flames, but they swarmed in and out of the other buildings like ants on a carcass.

Could Marly still be alive? Could she have escaped somehow? Escaped... and gone for help. That's what I have to do, she thought.

She looked down. The road below her was clear, and the monsters were all in the courtyard. She might be able to get down and away unseen - but no, there were the ones behind her on the wall.

Keeping the magic sword in her hand, Kiri quickly scrambled down the pile of rubble. But in her haste she failed to see a sudden drop. She landed awkwardly, her left arm under her, twisting it painfully. She picked herself up, sword still in hand, but even as she slid down to the road, one of the undead came down from the wall, its great leaping bounds bringing it right down next to her.

She swung at it, chopping into its side. But even as her stroke landed, the creature's long arm shot out and ripped into her face. The blow spun her around and she didn't stay to continue the fight. 

The road lay open before her, and she ran.

* * *

****

Chapter Ten - Healing

'Kiri, Kiri, what's happened? Who did this to you?'

Kiri stared blankly at her father where he stood silhouetted in the doorway of his shop. She must have run all the way to Silverdale, though she couldn't remember it. Her face ached, and her legs seemed to be numb.

The sword was still in her hand, and the door was gouged where she must have pounded it with the pommel, but she didn't remember doing that either.

A man stomped up to the circle of light spilling from the doorway. A militia man, one of the town guard of Silverdale, probably a retired man-at-arms from the Order. 'What's going on? I saw her come running into town, but she didn't stop, and I couldn't catch up,' the man complained, puffing for breath.

'I don't know,' Kiri's father told him, 'Kiri, what happened to you?' His voice was low, worried.

Kiri swayed on her feet and her father reached out a hand to steady her. 'Th' fortress... undead attacked... killed...' Her voice was slurred and she suddenly toppled, unable to keep herself up. Her father caught her as she fell, and lowered her to the ground.

'Undead!' The militia man exclaimed, 'What undead?'

'Kiri.' Her father held her on his lap. 'What about undead? Where did they come from?' Kiri opened her mouth, but couldn't find the strength to form the words.

Her father shook her gently by the shoulder, trying to rouse her, then lifted his hand and stared at it. It was covered in blood. He looked up at the militia man. 'It looks like she's lost a lot of blood. She needs a healer!'

'Right. I'll get a priest.' The man turned, then stopped, muttering, 'Undead. Don't like the sound of that.' He pulled a silver whistle from his tunic, and gave a series of blasts. He waited until he heard whistles replying from around the town, then ran off up the street.

'Come on, Kiri, let's get you inside.' Markham lifted her with a grunt, and shuffled inside. Her sword hand hung down, the blade scraping along the ground. Marly wouldn't like that, she thought distantly. Marly had given her a great deal of instruction on the proper care of swords, and dragging the blade along the ground was definitely forbidden. But her arm wouldn't obey the message to lift it up.

She felt her father sit her down on something soft, then he tugged gently at the sword. 'Kiri, you can let go now.' But her hand only tightened.

She came awake some time later at the touch of a wet cloth against her cheek. She was lying on the bed in her room, her father carefully sponging the blood from her cheek. She blinked at him, wondering how he could be so gentle that she didn't feel any pain from the wound. He noticed her movement, and leaned over her. 'Kiri?' he said softly.

Kiri opened her mouth to reply, then gasped as something tore at her leg. She realised that she still held her sword, and she thrust it at the creature attacking her.

'Ow!' the man cried as the sheathed blade struck him on the shoulder. He frowned at her. 'I do apologise for hurting you, young lady, but...' He turned to look at her father, 'I think I would feel safer if the sword were somewhere else.'

Markham grimaced in apology, and turned back to his daughter. 'You don't need the sword any more,' he said soothingly, as if calming a wild animal.

'Who's he?' she demanded, frowning suspiciously at the strange man.

'That's Reverend Torreyns, from the temple of Monasheth. He's here to heal your wounds.'

Oh. The man's bearded face did look familiar, and he was clearly wearing priestly robes in green and yellow, with the holy symbol of Monasheth hanging from a chain at his throat. Feeling somewhat foolish, Kiri didn't resist as her father pried the sword from her hand and placed it leaning against the bed.

'Well, _try_ to heal her wounds,' the priest said, frowning at Kiri's legs, 'There's something about this wound I don't like, some kind of taint.'

Kiri noticed that her clothes had been cut off, tunic and trousers both, leaving her in just her undergarments. That should disturb her, being so nearly naked in front of an unfamiliar man. But fatigue was washing over her once more, and she couldn't raise the energy to object, or to cover herself.

Her father seemed to notice her discomfort, or perhaps he just thought she was getting cold. He picked up a blanket and placed it over her, tucking it behind her shoulders, leaving only her legs uncovered for the priest to work on.

'Ho, Markham!' A man's bellow came from somewhere outside.

Kiri's father jumped up and crossed to the door. 'In here, Captain,' he called, and a moment later a tall dark-bearded man, in chainmail with a long grey cloak, strode into the room.

'What's going on, Markham? One of my men comes to me with a story about undead. He tells me you know all about it.' He glanced at Kiri, then his eyes flicked to the priest.

'My daughter brought the news, though she didn't say much. She was badly wounded.' Markham turned to Kiri. 'You remember Captain Hannil, of the town militia?'

She did indeed, though her memories were not pleasant ones. He had been one of the first to start harassing her, grabbing at her buttocks as she walked down the street, and laughing uproariously at her alarm. Once, he had tried to get her alone in the alley behind the baker's shop.

Now, however, he showed none of that ugly nature, just saying brusquely, 'Well, girl, tell me what's up.' 

Maybe the change in his behaviour was due to him being here on official business, or perhaps it was the presence of her father and the priest. Or was it that the wound on her face was so hideous? He seemed to be looking to one side of her face, not straight at her.

She closed her eyes, from tiredness, but also so that she didn't have to look at him. She didn't really want to talk, to him especially, but she had to tell what had happened at the fortress.

'Shadows came over the wall. They killed the sentries, then the guards on the gates. There was a dragon, but it was a skeleton, and it had a man on its back. They broke the gates and lots more monsters came in. The soldiers tried to fight, but...' Her voice drifted off as she remembered the last sight she had of the fortress, the crawling masses of undead, and no people left alive.

'What about the knights? What did they do?' The captain sounded dubious, as if he thought she was lying, or a foolish child who had mistaken what she had seen, but she didn't open her eyes to see his expression.

'They died. The man on the dragon broke their hall, and the dragon burned them. They tried to get to the Great Tower, but the dragon stopped them.'

Captain Hannil snorted. 'Are you trying to tell me that the fortress has been wiped out? By a bunch of... undead? And a _dragon_?' He plainly didn't believe her, but she couldn't be bothered arguing. It all seemed far away, and she felt herself slowly drifting towards sleep once more.

The priest spoke up. 'Her wounds do appear to be caused by claws, such as those of the undead.'

'Or an animal?' the captain suggested, tartly, 'Which is much more likely.'

'No,' the priest said, 'This wound was not made by any natural creature. Her story sounds all too true to me.' He spoke with all the authority of his office, and the captain fell silent.

Eventually, Captain Hannil spoke again. 'Well, I'd better get to work. Find out what happened.' He was plainly unconvinced as he tramped out the door.

Markham was quiet for a long moment after the captain left. He finally turned his attention back to his daughter, and the priest who tended her. 'How is she? You said there was something wrong?'

'Yes,' Reverend Torreyns told him, 'Some evil power has entered through this wound, and caused some damage to her spirit.' Kiri wondered what he was talking about. The only damage to her spirit came from the horror she had experienced, and her worry over Marly. What had happened to her?

'Well, can you fix it?' Markham asked anxiously.

'I believe so. There is something I can try, but if that doesn't work she'll have to be moved to the temple for a further attempt.'

'Well, do what you can.'

Kiri distantly felt the priest place his hands on her leg, and he started to intone some words, strange words, which she couldn't make out. An unpleasant sensation started to spread through her leg, cutting through the fog of sleep. She opened her mouth to protest.

Before she could speak, an explosion of ice cold pain shot up her leg to drive away her consciousness.


	5. Temple

****

Chapter Eleven - Temple

A dull grey light illuminated the pale stone room. Kiri couldn't tell what time of day it was, as the light didn't change, even after what felt like hours. She simply lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

Eventually, her brain started working again, and she remembered. The fortress. The attack by undead. _Marly_.

Kiri immediately tried to push herself up - and was shocked to find that she could not. Her arms simply collapsed. She set herself for another attempt, only to find that she could barely move at all.

Fear penetrated into her numb brain. What was wrong with her? Why was she so weak? She tried to think back.

The priest, Reverend Torreyns, had been healing her wounds and had said that something was wrong - some evil power had damaged her spirit. Was this weakness the result of whatever spiritual damage she had sustained?

But the priest had said he was going to take her to the temple for further healing. She must be in the temple now, she was sure. So where is the priest? Why hadn't he healed her already?

And why was it so quiet? There was no sound anywhere. She rolled her head to find the door. There, to her right - no more than an archway, with a heavy green curtain that didn't even completely block it. But there was no sound from the building beyond.

Kiri called, to try to get someone's attention, but only a light wheeze came from her mouth. She didn't have the energy to make any sound; she could hardly keep her eyes open. But fear forced her to resist the closing of her eyelids.

Such weakness could only be unnatural, and if she fell asleep, she might not wake up again. She flexed muscles throughout her whole body, trying to find some part of her that still worked. But she was completely limp.

Well, if I can't exercise my body to keep myself awake, she thought, I'll have to exercise my brain. What, then? Songs? But she found herself unable to think of any, not even nursery rhymes. Memories? But she had so few good memories, except for ones of Marly, and she didn't want to think of Marly, out there somewhere, and herself stuck here, unable to do anything.

Actually, she _could_ think of Marly, during her sword training. Running through the patterns she had learned would help her stay awake. Her muscles twitched as she thought through each movement in turn, each block, each strike.

Despite her best efforts, though, she was sinking back to sleep when she heard footsteps outside. The curtain to her room was pushed back and two men entered. Kiri rolled her head to see who it was.

'Oh, you are awake! I had though you might be asleep for some hours yet.' Reverend Torreyns bustled into the room, carrying a tray, which he set on a low table beside the bed. A savoury smell wafted from it, and set Kiri's mouth salivating. 'I've brought you some food. I expect you'll be needing it.'

Kiri's father stepped up to her bed, carrying her swords. He looked down at her, anxiety clear on his face. 'How are you feeling?'

Kiri tried to reply but couldn't. She gathered all the strength in her body, and managed to puff out a single whisper, '_weak_.'

Markham blinked in surprise, then his expression turned to alarm, and he turned to the priest.

'Oh dear!' Reverend Torreyns was apologetic. 'The healing must have affected you worse than I had thought. That kind of healing is always rather draining, for me as well, but you shouldn't be like this! Here, Markham, help her up.'

Markham quickly moved around to the other side of the bed. He slid his hands under her shoulders and dragged her up to a half sitting position.

'Now, this should set you right.' The priest held a spoonful of soup and carefully poured it into her mouth. As soon as the first trickle of rich, hot soup touched her tongue, Kiri felt a tingle of energy shoot through her mouth, then spread to the rest of her body.

'I should have checked up on you earlier, but I'm a bit short-staffed at the moment,' Reverend Torreyns told her. Kiri wasn't really listening, she was too busy slurping up each spoonful of soup that he gave her, but her father explained.

'Scouts have confirmed that the fortress has been attacked, and Captain Hannil has sent messengers to all of the chapterhouses. The knights from Arrel are already here and are going up to investigate. They'll be joined by the ones from Marquan later this evening, and a group of militia and priests from town will also be going. It's likely to be rather unpleasant - it's snowing out there at the moment, and it's bitterly cold, but we have to make sure those undead are bottled up in the fortress or they'll be free to go where they want.'

Kiri stopped cold and looked up at her father. 'We?' She had the awful feeling that he hadn't been using that word in any general sense.

'Yes,' he told her, 'I'm going too. There aren't enough fighters with just the knights and their men-at-arms, and some of the militia has to stay here to protect the town. Captain Hannil has asked everyone with some sword skill to help out.' He gave her a slight grin and raised her sword belt. 'I thought I could use your swords.'

Kiri could only stare at him. Between weakness and astonishment, she couldn't manage to say anything. Her father could use a sword? He was going up to the fortress - _the fortress full of undead_?

He saw the dismay on her face. 'Hey, it's not that bad. The knights were taken by surprise, while they were asleep. We'll be wide awake and ready for them. And we've got ten priests with us - they'll give us an edge against the undead.'

There had been nine priests in the fortress when it was attacked, but they didn't do anyone any good, Kiri thought, but she didn't say that. She asked, in a whisper, 'You... use... a sword?'

He grimaced. 'In my youth, I rather fancied the idea of making my fortune as an adventurer. One of my friends had a brother in the militia, and we got some training with the short sword from him.' He smiled, ruefully. 'Thankfully, I gained better sense before I was too much older. Now, I may be rusty, but I'm sure I remember the basics.'

Kiri felt tears start in her eyes. She didn't want her father going into danger, but... 'Papa, if you do go up there... use the long sword. It's magic.'

'Magic?' he said, looking startled. He drew the long sword slightly out of its scabbard and peered at the blade, turned it over and looked at the other side, before looking up at her. 'Are you sure?'

Kiri was puzzled. 'It's _glowing_.'

Markham frowned at her, then down at the blade. His frown deepened and he looked across the bed to Reverend Torreyns. 'I don't see any glow. Do you, Reverend?' He sounded worried, as if he thought his daughter was hallucinating.

'Let me see it.' The priest reached out and Markham passed the whole sword belt over. Torreyns slid the long sword out and lightly placed his fingertips on the steel. 'Hmm. There does seem to be an enchantment there.' He held the blade up and peered closely at it. 'I can just see a slight shimmer, but that's all.' He sheathed the blade again and looked at Kiri. 'You're part Elven, aren't you? That could explain how you can see the magic,' he said, as he passed the swords back to Markham.

Kiri's father looked surprised, before he managed a wobbly smile. 'I always did say you had your mother's eyes.'

So, I can see things that most other people can't, Kiri thought, amazed. That could be _useful_.

'Anyway, you don't need to worry about the swords,' Torreyns told her. 'The priests from the temple of Chellorin here will bless the blades before our people start off. That will allow them to damage those undead.'

Kiri stared at him. 'You mean, normal blades won't hurt the undead?' No, that couldn't be right. After all, she had killed one of the monsters with the man-at-arms' long sword.

'Only the most powerful undead, like those shadows you mentioned,' the priest explained. 'A normal sword won't do anything against them.'

Well, that certainly explained why the men-at-arms had been so quickly overwhelmed. Their weapons simply weren't good enough. Though it raised the question of why they were so poorly equipped.

But the question she really wanted answered was, 'Have there been any other survivors from the fortress?'

The priest looked grave. 'No one else has been seen on this side of the mountains. Though it is possible some could have made it down the Marquan side.' He sounded dubious, and it was unlikely. Why would anyone fleeing from the fortress head for Marquan, when Silverdale is so close?

Kiri closed her eyes, wearily, and tears leaked out from under her lids. She had known there wasn't much chance that Marly had survived, but her hope had just got a lot weaker.

Her father took her hand. 'It'll be alright, love. We'll hold those undead in the fortress until the rest of the knights get here, and then we'll wipe out the lot of them. I probably won't be needed for long - I might even be back tomorrow.'

He bent and kissed her brow. 'And with a magic sword, what will I have to worry about?' He grinned at her, though she knew how weak that assurance was. 'You just rest and get your strength back, and I'll be back before you know it.'

He stood and strode to the door, turning for one last smile and wink at her before he disappeared into the corridor.

'All right, then. You could do with a bit more food, I'm sure.' Reverend Torreyns put the soup bowl aside and picked up another dish. Lifting the lid, he revealed an aromatic stew. 'Can you eat by yourself now? Or do you still need my help?'

He placed the dish in her lap and handed her a spoon. Kiri just looked at it. She didn't really feel like eating right now, but she knew that she needed it to regain her strength. Whatever had happened to Marly, or would happen to her father, she couldn't do either one any good in her present state. She started picking at the food, then began eating with more appetite as she found it to be delicious.

'They really should be all right, you know,' Reverend Torreyns told her. 'There'll be about two hundred fighters, all told, as well as the ten priests. Even the mage is going, though I don't expect the knights will be too happy about that.' He chuckled.

Mage? Kiri was puzzled. What mage? Then a dim memory returned to her. About two years ago, a mage had come to Silverdale and had built a strangely unstable-looking tower at the northern end of town. Kiri vaguely recalled her father joking about it to some of his friends, jokes about '_phallic symbols'_ and '_overcompensation'_. She hadn't understood at the time, but now she felt that it was a very foolish way to speak about a mage who might take offence. Take offence... and take revenge.

'How... trustworthy is he?' Kiri asked.

The priest didn't look surprised at her question. 'Oh, there's nothing to worry about. I've met him and he's really quite a decent fellow. Rather studious, actually. That's why he came to Silverdale, you know, he wanted to study the early days of the Order. Of course, the knights don't much trust mages, so he didn't get very far with that. He's mostly made a living from making magical lanterns. Very useful in the mines, they are.'

He shuffled the items on the tray. 'I might as well leave this here for you, if you want something more to eat or drink. We'll clean it up later.' He stood. 'A couple of my acolytes are going with the fighters, so I'd better see how their preparations are going. I'll be back to check on you later.'

He went out, pulling the curtain shut behind him.

Kiri turned back to her food, though her thoughts returned to the mage. A mage who had been rudely insulted, and who had been thwarted in his studies. One who greatly desired to see inside the Star Fortress, but had been prevented from doing so by the knights.

That sounded to her like someone who would want to see the Order destroyed, not someone who would help to rescue it.

A few minutes later, Kiri fell asleep, still worrying about the mage.

* * *

****

Chapter Twelve - Wounded

Kiri woke to bustling noises in the room. She wearily cracked her eyes open, to see a woman in the plain green robes of a novice fluffing the blankets on another bed. A young man, also in novice robes, was busy setting up two camp beds against the wall.

Kiri peered at them in puzzlement. Why were they fussing around with such things? And why here? Surely the temple had other rooms they could use?

The woman turned to her, and saw that she was awake. 'Kiri, can you... um... how are you feeling?' She seemed hesitant, even though she looked to be nearly thirty, with very short blonde hair and a strongly built figure under her robes.

'I'm... alright,' Kiri told her slowly, still bemused.

'Oh, good. Do you think... could you get up and help us? Only we really need a lot of help right now,' she finished in a rush.

Kiri pushed herself up. She really was a lot stronger now, almost as good as normal. 'Help with what?' she asked.

'Oh, well, there's...' The woman turned and flapped her hands in a distracted way towards the other beds. Kiri smiled. This novice certainly had fussy mannerisms for someone who looked so strong.

'There's been fighting up at the fortress and we have to deal with the wounded,' the novice finally finished her thought.

'What?!' No longer amused, Kiri sat bolt upright.

'Oh, no-one's been killed,' the woman cried, waving her hands in a pacifying gesture, 'It's just that the priests up there can't do any more healing, so they're sending the rest down to us.'

Kiri stared at her, mouth open, absorbing this news. 'Well, what do you want me to do?' she asked.

The male novice straightened up from his work and came over to explain. 'There are about a dozen wounded, though Reverend Torreyns wants us to prepare for more. All the temples will be helping, but we'll take those worst hurt - after all, Monasheth is the Lady of Healing.' He touched the holy symbol at his throat.

'Yes, and there are only us four novices here to get everything sorted out ready,' the woman butted in.

The dark young novice shot her a look, then turned back to Kiri. 'We would like your help to set things up, and then to assist us in caring for the wounded. We could also use your bed if you don't need it any more.'

'Oh. Of course.' Kiri had been expecting a longer convalescence, not to be tossed out of bed and set to work. But then, she _had_ been healed by a priest, so she should be perfectly all right. She touched the wound on her face, and flinched in anticipation, but really, there was only a slight discomfort remaining, and she couldn't feel any scarring at all.

'Good,' the young man said, 'There's a robe by your bed that you can wear. Once you're dressed, Nomi here will show you what needs to be done.' He nodded briskly to her and left.

Kiri swung her legs out of bed, then stopped at a sudden thought. 'What time is it?' she asked. The light from the windows was still the same weak grey, and the room was lit by small glass spheres, glowing with a soft white radiance.

'It's mid-morning, the day after you got here,' Nomi told her, scurrying around the bed to help her up.

So, she had been there for over a day. Kiri stood, expecting to feel pain or weakness, but there was just a slight sluggishness in her muscles. A bit of exercise would soon get rid of that.

Nomi helped her into the robe, plain green, the same as the novices wore. As Nomi straightened the robe, her hand brushed against Kiri's breast. Kiri recoiled sharply.

Nomi reacted even more strongly, though, as she realised what she had done. She turned bright red, cringing back, and mumbling something incoherent that might have been an apology.

Kiri stared at her. The novice actually looked frightened, and Kiri suddenly realised that the woman's strange mannerisms were due to _nervousness_. Of _her_. Kiri had never imagined that anyone could be nervous of her, and had no idea how to deal with it.

'Ah, you were going to show me what work needs doing,' Kiri prompted, gently.

Nomi looked relieved and grateful, as if she had expected harsh words, or even a blow. 'If you'll come with me...' and she led the way out of the room.

Kiri followed, wondering what Nomi's life had been like to make her so fearful.

Over the next half hour, Kiri was kept busy, preparing beds, setting out ointments and bandages, and generally helping Torreyns and his novices get ready for an influx of injured fighters.

The work brought back her appetite, and she took the time to eat breakfast. And to use the privies. She was surprised to see that the temple had magical privies just like the ones in the knights' hall, and there were the same magical lights and heating as well. She wondered if the ancient knights had helped to build this temple. 

She was distracted from her musings by a clattering of cartwheels outside, and Reverend Torreyns called for her to come and help the novices bring in the wounded.

The cart had drawn up at a side door, so they wouldn't have to bring the injured in through the temple's main hall. As Kiri stepped out of the door, a sudden wash of cold air rolled over her, and she started to shiver. The sky was heavily overcast, with only a dim light showing through the low clouds. A thin layer of snow coated the paved ground, muffling the hooves of another horse, bringing another cartload of wounded.

Three men lay in the back of the first cart, bundled up in blankets and covered with a tarpaulin. Marn, the dark young novice, jumped lightly up onto the deck and pulled back the covering. Nomi stepped forward with a stretcher, which she slid alongside the first wounded man. The two novices manoeuvred him onto the stretcher, then Nomi took one end and dragged it off the cart, until only the handles still rested on the deck, so that another novice could step forward and take the other end of the stretcher, which they then carried inside.

The process was repeated with the next man, and Kiri stepped forward to take the other end.

And stopped. 'Papa?' she said, in disbelief.

Markham opened his eyes and pulled his face out of the blankets. He gave her a weak smile. 'Hey. I told you I'd be back real soon.'

Kiri stared down at him, stricken, then turned accusing eyes on Reverend Torreyns.

'I'm sorry, Kiri.' The priest was quick to placate her. 'I didn't know your father was one of the wounded. Let's get him inside and make him comfortable,' and he led the way, even as the first stretcher-bearers came back out for the third man.

They placed Markham into the same bed that Kiri had used. As she arranged the blankets over him, Kiri was horrified to see that his entire left leg, from hip to ankle, was bound in blood-soaked bandages. 

She grabbed the priest by the arm and dragged him over to the bed. 'You have to heal him!'

'Of course,' he soothed her, and knelt to begin taking off the bandages. He looked up at her as she stood biting her lip. 'There are others who need to be brought in,' he reminded her gently.

She stared at him, then looked to her father's face. He smiled, and nodded to tell her that she should go. She went, looking back even as she walked out the door. Her father's eyes had a slightly glazed look that she didn't like.

They brought in ten men in total. Kiri went out to get the last man, only to find that she wasn't needed. Nomi and Marn carried the stretcher inside, and she turned to follow them.

'Hey, Sal!' Kiri glanced back over her shoulder to see who had called her by that old name. The carter had left his horse and was walking over to her, smiling.

'Aren't you Sal, Markham's daughter?' he asked. She vaguely recalled him as a man who had done some work for her father, some time ago. But hadn't he been taller? Or had she grown that much? She turned to face him, to see what he wanted. He didn't meet her eyes, though. He was too busy looking at how well she filled out her robe, his eyes lingering on her hips and breasts.

'I didn't know you'd gone into the temple,' he said, 'Markham told me...' Whatever Markham had told him was left unsaid. His eyes had finally wandered up to her face, and his smile vanished, his voice abruptly cut off.

Kiri just looked down at him. Her robe apparently made him think that she was a novice, an understandable mistake. But she couldn't be bothered correcting him. She didn't owe this creep any explanations, anyway.

'My name is Kiri,' she told him flatly. 'I have work to do.'

'Oh, uh, yeah, of course! Sorry!' The carter stumbled quickly back to his horse, seemingly eager to get away from her.

She looked after him for a moment, then turned away. As she passed through the door, one hand lifted, touched her cheek. Surely the wound there could not be so hideous?

Markham had gone back to sleep, and Nomi was working on his leg, spreading a pale pink ointment over the wound and covering it with a clean bandage.

A bandage? Kiri frowned. 'I thought Reverend Torreyns was going to heal him.'

Nomi looked up, her eyes wide. 'Oh, he did!' she assured her, 'but he couldn't heal everyone completely, not so many, with such bad wounds. This ointment will take care of the rest.'

Kiri came over and looked down at her father. She shivered at the sight of his injury. Great rents, from long, sharp claws, no doubt, ran down the length of his leg. She saw that he was still wearing her swords. That must be uncomfortable. She carefully undid the sword belt and slid it out from under him, propping the swords against the wall.

'Can you do the others?' Nomi asked her, indicating a pot of ointment on the table, then waved her hand at the other two injured men in the room. 'Just spread the ointment on the wound and then wrap a bandage over it.'

The man on the other bed was unconscious, and Kiri gulped as she saw his wound. If this is what it looked like _after_ a healing... Claws had slashed across his belly, ripping through muscle and fat. It was perhaps fortunate that he was an older man, with a bit of a paunch, which had taken the worst damage. The claws had not penetrated to the intestines and vital organs below.

Nevertheless, it was a horrendous mess. The healing had closed up the outer edges of the claw marks, but they burned an angry red. The central, deepest part of the wound was still raw and open, nauseatingly like sausage meat oozing from the skin.

Kiri swallowed, hard, and scooped out a large handful of ointment. She was afraid that she would hurt the man as she smeared it into the wound, but he didn't stir.

After carefully wrapping a bandage over top of the salve, Kiri inspected her patient for other wounds. She found a long gash on his left arm, but that was almost completely healed. She treated it anyway, then turned to the third man, lying on the camp bed. But Nomi was already tending to him, so Kiri sat down in the chair beside her father.

A touch on her arm roused her some time later, and Kiri looked up, startled. Nomi smiled at her. 'Would you like to lie down? The other camp bed is free.'

Kiri blinked, and shook her head to clear it. She must have dozed off for a time. She lurched to her feet, then stood swaying for a moment, looking at her father's face.

'He's alright,' Nomi reassured her, 'Just sleeping.'

'What about the others?' Kiri asked, looking blearily around the room.

'That one should heal just fine,' Nomi told her, gesturing to the man on the camp bed, 'but the other man...' She paused, frowning at him. 'He really needs another healing, but it will be quite a few hours before Reverend Torreyns can do any more. We'll just have to hope he doesn't get any worse before then.'

Kiri nodded, looking soberly down at the man, but then she yawned hugely, and Nomi chuckled. 'I think you need to sleep.' Nomi put her hand on Kiri's shoulder and guided her to the spare camp bed.

As Kiri lay down, she glanced up at Nomi, who smiled back at her. It seemed the woman had gotten over her nervousness. That was good. 

Kiri didn't much like having people flinch from her.

* * *

****

Chapter Thirteen - Undeath

The ointment had turned a sickly purple colour, which Nomi had told her was a good indication, showing that it had drawn dirt, disease or even poison from the wound. Kiri carefully wiped the salve off the wound, then let out a relieved sigh.

The claw marks had lost their fiery redness, and there were no signs of infection in the flesh around it. In fact, it looked like it had been healing for weeks, not merely... how long had it been? Less than a day.

'So, surgeon, what's your opinion?' Markham grinned at her, and she smiled back.

'You are healing nicely, and you will soon be able to go home,' she told him, with a playful attempt at a surgeon's authoritative tone. She quickly spread fresh ointment over his leg, and gave him a new bandage. He had been feverish during the night, and Kiri had worried for him. But now, although still rather pale and weak-looking, he was recovering well, and looked like he would soon be completely healed.

Her pleased smile faded, though, as she heard the laboured breathing of the man behind her. Reverend Torreyns had performed another healing on the man last night, but that had only closed the wound. Infection had already spread red marks all over his belly, and his skin had turned greyish.

Kiri stood and looked at him, troubled. He was clearly getting worse, but there was nothing she could do for him. The infection had reached too deep into his body for the ointment to draw it out. The only thing that could help him now was another, stronger healing. Reverend Torreyns was preparing for that now, but Kiri wondered whether it would be in time.

The third man was all right. He had not had any fever, and his wounds were practically healed. He would go home as soon as he woke up.

Nomi had left Kiri with these three, while she left to tend to another lot of wounded men from the fortress. About ten had come in just after midnight, though most of those had gone to the temple of Orpyren.

Kiri wondered what would happen if there were more wounded. Both temples were nearing their limits, and the temple of Chellorin was empty. All of their priests had gone up to the fortress, even the novices. Well, Chellorin was a war god, so they were naturally more interested in fighting than healing.

And as for the priests of Hakterruk, well, Kiri wasn't sure if they _could_ heal. The God of Mountains and Mining was more interested in rock than flesh.

But there were sure to be more casualties. Only two nights had passed, and it would be at least another three before the rest of the knights could arrive from Venkenka and Mear.

Well, it wasn't up to her to decide these things. She could only do the best she could. With a sigh, she sank back into the chair at her father's bedside, and he took her hand comfortingly.

'Hey, do you want to hear how I took my heroic wound?' Markham gave her a silly grin.

Kiri's lips bent, just short of a smile. They had not yet had a chance to talk. Either one or the other had been asleep, or Kiri had been busy. 'Go ahead, tell me your war story,' she encouraged him.

'Well, when we got up there, we had to find some way of making our position defensible. So, what we did is, we flipped over some carts, which we used to make a barricade across the road to the fortress. The knights stood behind that, with their men-at-arms behind them. The militia stood to either side, on the main road, where we could shoot at the enemy, though we only had about thirty bows.'

'The priests stood at the back, and the mage, he was brilliant. He found a ledge on the cliff above the road, where he could look over everyone's heads. When the undead came out, he sent a fireball right into the middle of them, blew most of them away before they even got near our fighters.'

Kiri remembered her worries about the mage. It seemed her fears had been groundless.

'The few undead who survived the fireball were soon chopped to pieces by the knights. I don't think anyone was even hurt in that first attack. That was shortly after it got dark. But then we had to worry about the weather, and the cold.'

'We set up shelters, and big bonfires, and half of our people rested and warmed up while the others kept guard. The rotations started out as two hours, but no one could stand more than half an hour of that cold, so we did half-hour shifts.'

'I was asleep when the second attack came, just after midnight. That went much like the first attack, with the mage's fireball taking most of the undead, but more of them got through, and some of them jumped right over the knights and wounded some of the men-at-arms. But that was cleared up by some healing from the priests, and we were still as good as new.'

'The third attack came just before dawn. Clever, that. We were starting to relax, thinking that the sun would soon be up. They had obviously learned from their previous attacks because they came in fast waves, rather than in a big mob that could be destroyed in a single fireball. As well as that, some of the undead came climbing around the cliffs below the road and jumped up and attacked the militia. We took quite a few injuries that time, but we pushed them back again. The priests ran out of healing power before they could fix everybody, though.'

'And that's why you had to come down here,' Kiri put in.

'Uh, well, no, actually. I hadn't been wounded at that point.'

'No? Then what happened to you?'

'Well, after three attacks, there were a lot of rotting, burnt corpses lying around, and they really stank. So we decided that we should clear up a little, toss the bodies off the cliffs. I was doing that, dragging one monster over the edge, only it wasn't quite dead. That's how I got wounded. Of course, by that time, the priests had used up all their healing...'

Kiri laughed. 'So much for your _heroic_ wound.' But there was one thing missing from this story. 'What about the dragon, and the man who was riding it? Did you see them at all?'

Her father shook his head. 'No, no sign of a dragon, nor any man. We did see someone who seemed to be in charge, up on the fortress wall, but that looked to be a woman. Female, anyway, armed with some strange spear. Not that we could see much, it was so dark. Except when the mage shot off one of his fireballs.'

Kiri frowned thoughtfully. A woman with a spear? She was sure the figure on the dragon had been a man, and he had definitely had a sword, not a spear. And where could the dragon have gone? Something that big could hardly hide itself.

'So,' Kiri said slowly, 'Do you think our people can hold on another three or four days until the rest of the knights get here?'

'I think so,' her father said, 'At the current rate, with the priests healing our wounded, we should be able to hold out for weeks.'

'Don't be so sure the priests can heal everything,' Kiri told him sombrely, and she glanced over her shoulder at the man behind her. She suddenly realised that his breathing had changed, becoming very slow and rasping.

Alarmed, she jumped up and rushed over to him. His face looked grey and bruised. Kiri carefully placed her hand on his brow, then snatched it back, shuddering. His skin felt clammy, as if he were already dead.

'I have to get Reverend Torreyns!' Kiri told her father, then whirled and started for the door. She stopped short, though, as the laboured breathing behind her abruptly ceased.

Kiri slowly turned. She stared at the man's face, willing him to take another breath. But he was completely still.

'Oh, no!' Kiri shuffled back to his bedside, tears starting in her eyes. She had failed him. He was dead.

His eyes flicked open, and he turned his head towards her. Kiri jumped. He was all right! Her relief turned to confusion, though, as she realised... _he's still not breathing_.

The dull red glow in his eyes was all the warning she had, and she lurched backwards just in time to avoid his vicious swipe at her, with a hand that was already becoming claws.

The corpse jerked upright and ripped the bandages from its torso. It threw back the blankets and swung itself to its feet.

The moment its feet touched the floor, a sizzling came from its undead flesh and it toppled, shrieking, back onto the bed. The soles of its feet appeared to have been burned.

Kiri was stumbling back, her mouth hanging open, but she stopped as the undead monster turned its attention from her to the closer, easier meat, tucked up in blankets, unable to move. It drew its feet up, ready to spring from one bed to the next.

'No! Papa!' Kiri leaped into the creature's path even as it started to jump. It wasn't choosy about its prey and changed its aim to lunge at her. Kiri ducked beneath the scything arms and drove a punch straight into its chest.

The blow connected solidly, and the monster tumbled backwards, falling right off the other side of the bed. It landed on the floor, and immediately shrieked, its flesh charring. It desperately scrabbled up onto the bed... straight into the arc of Kiri's long sword.

The undead head rolled along the blankets before dropping onto the floor. It smoked for a moment, then was still. Kiri stood, blade poised, until she was sure the corpse was not going to move again.

Gasping whimpers drew her attention to the man on the camp bed. The commotion had woken him, and he lay there, staring in terror, his eyes jumping from the severed head to the young woman with a sword. They both seemed to alarm him equally.

'I... ah... Kiri? Are you all right?' Kiri swivelled to look down at her father. She couldn't think of anything to say, just looked at him, but she was indeed all right. The shock and fear she had felt were washed away by... something, some emotion she couldn't define.

The door curtain was violently pulled aside. 'What's going on here?' Marn demanded. His gaze flicked from Kiri's face, to the sword in her hand, to the headless body oozing black ichor onto the blankets, to the head lying on the floor. He paled and his mouth dropped open, a change from his usual calm efficiency.

Kiri gestured to the corpse. 'He died... and became undead.' Marn seemed to be waiting for a longer explanation, but really, what more needed to be said?

Marn swallowed. 'I... I'd better get Reverend Torreyns.' He backed away, bumping into Nomi who had come up behind him. The woman turned white as she took in the scene, and she stumbled back against the corridor wall.

Kiri turned away. She wiped her sword on the soiled blankets, then sheathed it, placing her swords on the seat of the chair. 

She bent to pick up the head, and was surprised when the man on the camp bed flinched away from her. She blinked at him for a moment, before she realised that he was truly frightened. She tossed the head onto the bed, next to its body, then turned back to the man.

'You can relax,' she said, soothingly, 'It's dead now.' Her gentle tone didn't seem to reassure him. She sighed and straightened. Nomi had crept forward, now standing in the doorway, and Kiri asked her, 'Can you look after him? He's a bit upset.'

Nomi nodded and came in, although she seemed to be shaking as badly as the man was. Her nervousness was back in full force. Kiri sighed once more and turned her attention to the corpse. She bundled it in the blanket and picked it up. It was an awkward burden, but she swung it out the door.

Reverend Torreyns was coming along the corridor, with Marn close behind. 'Kiri, is that the... the body?' Kiri nodded. 'Oh. Well, bring it into my study. I'm afraid that's the only spare room at the moment.' 

The priest led the way back down the corridor. Kiri picked up her bundle and followed him. 

But she saw Marn give her a strange look before he disappeared into another room.

* * *

****

Chapter Fourteen - Failure

The priest's study was a plain room containing a desk, a couple of chairs and a bookshelf that filled one entire wall. Kiri's fingers twitched at the sight of so many books, but she forced her mind back on track. The room also had two doors, leading to two further rooms. They looked to be a bedroom and a laboratory - for making the ointments and other medicines, Kiri guessed.

Reverend Torreyns directed her to place the body on the floor. He took one look at it and collapsed into an armchair. 'Oh dear. Oh, this is just awful. I never thought that this might happen.' He met her eyes and explained. 'People killed by an undead creature may themselves become undead. But I wouldn't have thought that it could happen on holy ground.'

Holy ground. Kiri told him how the floor had burned the undead man.

'Oh, that makes sense, I guess. The bed isn't exactly holy ground itself, so it would give the undead some protection. And those rooms were a later addition - maybe they weren't properly consecrated. I don't know. But I doubt it would have survived more than a few minutes, anyway, inside the temple. Long enough to cause some trouble, though. You did well to kill it.'

He sighed, and ran a hand over his head. 'But now I have another problem. How am I going to tell his family about this? They were here last night to see him.' Kiri looked up in surprise. 'Oh, you were asleep at the time. But he shouldn't have died. And such a way to die! Oh, I fear I have failed him.'

Kiri reacted to that. She, too, had felt that she had failed the man. She looked at the priest and for the first time noticed the effect on him of the events of the last few days. Torreyns was no longer the tidy, composed man she had first met. His face was drawn, his eyes reddened, his beard unkempt. His clothes were rumpled and hung limply from his shoulders. He looked sad and weary.

Kiri tried to think of some way to comfort him, but she couldn't think how. Comforting people was not something she was used to - she couldn't recall ever doing it before - and she felt awkward even thinking about it.

Before Kiri could come up with something to say, she heard the door open behind her. She looked round, and stared at the man who stood in the doorway. It was the mage. It was very clearly the mage.

His hair and beard were white, long and wild, not quite tangled. He wore a long hooded robe of dark red velvet, heavily embroidered with golden symbols, and he bore a large gnarled staff in his left hand. He couldn't have looked more like the stereotypical Great Wizard if he tried.

And he definitely _had_ tried. Despite the white hair, the skin of his hand clutching the staff, and the skin around his eyes, was smooth and unlined. Kiri decided that the mage couldn't be more than twenty five years old, and she felt a bubble of laughter begin in her chest at the absurdity of his pose.

Reverend Torreyns, however, clearly was not amused by the mage's appearance. 'Gedrassis, what has happened?' He sounded alarmed as he sprang to his feet.

Gedrassis - that fit with the pose. The name was strange and exotic, but just failed to reach the impressiveness it obviously intended. It was surely an assumed name, and Kiri just barely kept herself from expressing her scorn.

All such impulse left her, however, as the mage shuffled forward, leaning heavily on his staff, and she saw that his robe showed many small rents and was wet with blood. Torreyns hastily swung a chair forward for him, and Gedrassis sank heavily into it. Kiri felt a slight flush of embarrassment. It should have been her, not the tired old priest, who offered a chair to the wounded man. She was plainly hopeless at this civil interaction business.

The priest placed his hands on either side of the mage's face, speaking some soft, inaudible words, and Kiri watched, intrigued, as she saw a slight glow wash over the two men. The light seemed to sink gently into the mage's body, then vanished entirely as Torreyns stepped back.

Gedrassis shook himself and sat up straighter, obviously feeling much stronger. 'Thank you, Reverend,' he said softly, looking up at the priest. It was indeed a young man's voice, with a distinct accent, and rough from weariness.

His eyes swept over Kiri, then down to the corpse on the floor, before returning to Torreyns. 'I'm sorry to bring you more trouble, but there is bad news.'

The priest froze where he stood, and a myriad of possible disasters showed in his eyes. He sighed then, and shuffled back to his chair. Kiri looked at him with concern, wondering how much strength he had left. He carefully lowered himself, and, 'Tell me,' he said, as soon as he was seated.

The mage flicked his eyes to Kiri, then down to his hands. 'We have failed,' he said faintly, and Kiri stiffened at those words. 'Our people... our fighters have been... destroyed.'

Kiri gasped, struck by horror and disbelief, but Torreyns showed no surprise, only sagged in his chair, as if this was what he had feared.

'When... did this happen?' he asked weakly.

'This morning, not three hours ago.'

Now the priest showed surprise. His head came up and he stared at the mage. 'In broad daylight?' he breathed.

The mage gave a choked laugh. 'Have you been outside today, Reverend?' His hand swept up towards the high windows and the faint watery light they let in. 'It is the middle of winter, and the clouds hang low around us, like thick fog. Outside, it is barely twilight, hardly enough to even slow down the undead.'

The priest slumped back into his chair, his face slack. His hands twitched in his lap, and after a moment he sighed deeply. 'Tell me,' he said again.

Gedrassis stared unfocussed at the rear wall, and spoke in a soft quiet voice that clearly conveyed the horror of what he had experienced.

'I think the first attacks were just a test, to determine our strength, our resources. But they were slowly chipping away at our numbers, as the priests could not heal all of our wounded. After our losses last night, Lord Marshal Veris decided to try something different.'

'This morning, soon after daybreak, he took ten knights, three priests and twenty men-at-arms and entered the fortress. He wanted to attack the undead when they were vulnerable, to strike swiftly when they were unprepared.'

'We could not see what happened after they passed over the fallen gatehouse, and the fog muffled all sound, but it was not long before we heard shouts, the clashing of weapons, and screams. It went on for some time, then it all went quiet, but they did not return to us. We feared that they were all dead.'

'Some hours later, though, they did come back. Out of the fog, Lord Marshal Veris in front with six knights and about a dozen men-at-arms. No priests, though. A great shout of delight went up when they were recognised, though they looked to be badly wounded, moving awkwardly.'

'It was not until they reached the barricade that we realised...' Gedrassis faltered for a moment. 'We realised that they were all dead, _undead_.'

The mage took a deep breath before continuing. 'The knights cried out and fell back in horror, and the undead climbed onto the barricade. I saw that our lines were going to be breached, and the knights still too shocked to resist. I sent bolts of magic against the undead, but it was too late. It was all just a distraction anyway.'

'That was when the lich appeared.' Kiri and Torreyns both gasped, _Lich!_, but Gedrassis ignored them, and carried on, still staring blankly ahead.

'It had the appearance of a tall man, cloaked in shadows, bearing a sword and shield. It raised the sword and a blue beam shot from the blade, not a lightning bolt, something else, some terrible force that destroyed all in its path.'

'The barricade splintered and shattered under the power of that beam, then it tore through the knights and the men-at-arms, ripping through their armour and tossing them aside. The beam struck the cliff just below me, where the priests stood. Two priests were killed instantly, and the rest buried when the cliff fell. I fell too, though I was not badly hurt, and I managed to stay on top of the rock.'

'I cast a spell at the lich, but its shield turned the spell back on me.' He gestured to the rents in his robe. Torreyns opened his mouth to say something, but the mage kept speaking. 'The militia shot at the lich, but then fell under their own arrows returned to them.'

The priest broke in. 'The lich's shield turned both spells and arrows? But that's...'

'I know,' Gedrassis said, 'Those are the properties of the shield of the Panoply. It was, indeed. I saw it clearly, green and silver, but tarnished and blackened, and in the centre, in the star, a skull was affixed.'

'I believe the sword may also have been that of the Panoply, likewise corrupted. It certainly looked like the pictures I have seen, though that blue beam was not one of its properties, not in any list I have read. But perhaps that is a product of its corruption, I don't know.'

Torreyns shut his eyes and shook his head in weary disbelief. 'The sword and shield of the Panoply, corrupted, and in the hands of a lich. This is terrible.'

'Indeed, but that was only the beginning of our troubles,' Gedrassis resumed his story. 'While we were still in shock from that dreadful blow, a swarm of powerful undead rushed out upon us - shadows and ghouls and other, nameless things. Worst of all was the vampire, who we had glimpsed earlier but who had previously not entered combat.'

'She was terrible. A woman, she seemed, pale faced with black hair, garbed and armoured in black. And she was fast, blindingly fast. She tore through our ranks so quickly. Everyone she struck died instantly. We could only flee. I think about a dozen others reached Silverdale, militia only. I saw none of the knights or men-at-arms. Some people may have fled to Marquan, but I don't know. I didn't see.'

Torreyns held up a hand. 'Wait a moment. You said that everyone the vampire struck died instantly. She must have had a very powerful weapon.' He looked questioningly at the mage.

'Yes,' Gedrassis said heavily, as if he didn't want to say the words, and he didn't meet the priest's eyes. 'She wielded the Soulthorn Glaive.'

'No,' Torreyns gasped, 'It can't be...' His voice trailed off, then, 'But that would mean...' The mage nodded, and both men lapsed into silence.

Kiri glanced from one to the other, confused by this last exchange. She felt hesitant about speaking up, but she wanted to know, 'What is the Soulthorn Glaive?'

Reverend Torreyns shook himself and looked up at her. 'The Soulthorn Glaive was the weapon of Tarkeros, an evil warlord from Veyaroshi, south of Brysse. He made the Glaive himself; he was both mage and warrior. It's called the Soulthorn Glaive because the slightest wound from it will tear out your soul, killing you instantly, unless you are very strong or have magical protection.'

'Tarkeros raised rebellion against the King of Veyaroshi, and devastated much of that kingdom before his rebel army was destroyed, and he was killed. This was some one hundred and twenty years ago now, wasn't it?' He glanced at the mage for confirmation.

Gedrassis nodded. 'The twenty third year of the reign of King Ardrinsen,' he said softly, but didn't look up. 

'But Tarkeros came back as a lich,' Torreyns continued. 'Though little more than a skeleton in appearance, he retained all his magical and combat powers. He made a daring strike against the king's palace, retrieving his Glaive and killing the king himself, before he fled.'

'It was fifty years ago that he was discovered, in the southern range of the Merishahn Mountains, west of Lake Gehrer. He had built a great fortress there, and allied with a huge fire dragon. He was luring foolish adventurers there, and then corrupting them, and he had quite a large army, with spies and assassins all over Veyaroshi and Brysse before anyone even knew he was there.'

'Both Veyaroshi and Brysse sent armies against him. Separately, which was foolish, and one of the reasons why they failed. That is hard country to move an army through and they were attacking a very strong castle, well guarded, and a lich and a dragon besides. So, they failed, and their dead joined Tarkeros' undead army.'

'Everyone was expecting an invasion after that, though no-one knew where Tarkeros would strike first, and there was a great deal of panic. But then the Order attacked him from the west. They came down from Venkenka by ship and then over the mountains from the sea, which is actually a shorter, easier route.'

'The knights attacked by stealth, breaking into the fortress unexpectedly. They killed the dragon, and Tarkeros was buried under the rubble of his castle. Leaderless, his army fell to pieces and was easily destroyed. And everyone thought that was the end of it.'

'But now,' Kiri said thoughtfully, 'the lich, the skeleton dragon,... the Soulthorn Glaive, all here. The knights destroyed his fortress, now he has destroyed theirs. What about the vampire?'

The priest shook his head. 'I've no idea who she is, or where she came from. There are always vampires about, but they usually stay in the cities, where there are more people for them to prey upon.'

Kiri shivered. 'And this is what's up at the fortress.'

'Well, not any more,' Torreyns corrected her, 'They've broken out now, and who knows where they'll go. They could even attack Silverdale.' He looked to the mage, half-drowsing in his chair. 'Have you told Captain Hannil about this?' he asked.

Gedrassis roused, and looked up. 'Not me, but I'm sure the militia will have told him by now.'

The priest levered himself to his feet. 'Well, the whole town will have to be told. We will have to prepare for an attack, which could come at any moment, if the weather allows them to move during the day.' He sighed, and ran a hand over his head. 'This is a grim situation indeed. And most of our priests killed. My acolytes, Terrin and Cor.' His face looked even more haggard. 'And the knights. I wonder if the Order can recover from a blow like this.' He sighed again and turned towards the door.

'There is some good news,' Gedrassis said abruptly, rousing once more from his half sleep. 'I think there are some survivors in the fortress.' Kiri's whole body went rigid, and she stared at the mage. 'I saw some lights in the Great Tower last night. Undead don't need lights.' 

His head dropped back to his chest, but Kiri was already out the door, brushing past Reverend Torreyns and running down the corridor.

Was it possible? _Of course it was!_ Marly had been one of the first fighters out, before the undead had swamped the courtyard. She could have been pushed before them, into the inner courtyards, to the Great Tower. _It could be!_

She grabbed the doorpost, and without slowing, spun herself through the curtain into the room where her father lay. His eyes were closed, but he looked up as Kiri strode over to the chair and swept up her swords.

She paused a moment, looking down at him, as he stared up at her, but neither of them could find any words, so she simply bent and kissed him on the forehead.

Kiri gave a last quick glance around the room, noting in passing that Nomi and the man from the camp bed had gone, before her eye fell on the jar of ointment and a couple of clean bandages, still sitting on the small table. Those could be useful. She grabbed them and headed for the door.

She stopped, just reaching for the curtain, as her father spoke. 'Kiri...' He seemed to be struggling for words, before he suddenly blurted, 'Kiri, you're _scary_!'

She stared at him, blinking in confusion, wondering what he was talking about. Then she realised. It seemed he had been impressed by the way she had killed the undead man.

She looked down at the black stains on the floor, and snorted softly. 'Scary? I hope so. There are a lot of monsters out there needing a good scare.'

She brushed back the curtain, and left.


	6. Corruption

**Chapter Fifteen - Ambush**

It wasn't until Kiri was more than halfway up the pass that she started to think that this wasn't such a good idea.

The road itself was clear, kept so by the magic of its forming, but snow was heaped up on top of the wall along the side, and on the cliff above the road, where it looked rather precarious. She didn't want any of it falling on her, and she kept a close watch above.

She had stopped at home to change clothes, and she now wore the long underwear customary for all Silverdale residents not privileged to have magical heating, as well as thick woollen trousers, shirt and hat, fur-lined boots, gloves, a fleece tunic and a long warm cloak.

Despite all this, and the fact that she was jogging, she was still cold. The clouds hung all around the mountains, forming a heavy, damp fog. At times, she couldn't see more than twenty feet in front of her. Anything could be lurking in this concealment.

So the undead had broken out of the fortress, but where had they gone _to_? Maybe they had left the area completely, but possibly not. They could be anywhere - in front, behind, above the road, crawling round the cliffs below the road. She wouldn't know where they were until she stumbled into them - or they charged out to attack her.

Added to this, it was already late afternoon. It was hard to tell the time with the sky nothing but a mass of fog, and she had misjudged badly. The light was definitely waning. She probably had no more than an hour, at the most, before night fell. It was too late to turn back, and she couldn't spend a night out in this cold, even if there were no undead lurking about. She had to reach the fortress and find a place of warmth and safety - preferably the Great Tower.

Despite the growing darkness, she couldn't help staring at every shadow, or jumping at every sound – a whisper of breeze, a rustle as a pile of snow collapsed – and her footsteps slowed, half expecting to see a black shape dart from the fog, the vampire come to tear out her soul with the Soulthorn Glaive.

Stop it, she told herself, you're being silly. The lich - Tarkeros - wanted to get revenge on the Order. He'd killed the knights and destroyed the fortress, so he'd gotten what he wanted. Now that he'd smashed the besieging forces, there was nothing to keep him here and no reason to stay. The whole undead army had probably gone long ago.

She hated these fearful thoughts draining away her strength. She wanted to feel strong again. More specifically, she wanted to feel again the way that she had in the temple, when she had killed the undead man. That had been something she'd never felt before, not in her entire life, certainly not in her childhood, nor as a servant. Not even her sword practice had made her feel that way, or the fight to escape the fortress.

It was not the actual killing of the undead that had made her feel so good. It had been the punch, the solid force of it, throwing the monster backwards. Her whole arm had tingled from the power of that blow for a long time afterwards, and she tried to call the feeling back now.

It was a feeling, not just of strength, but of competence and confidence. It was the knowledge that her body was powerful and strong, and that she had the skill and courage to use it. The power she had felt in her own body at that instant told her that she didn't have to accept being pushed around, not by anybody. Not by undead, not by perverts and lechers, not even by the knights.

She had been weak before, timid, drifting wherever she had been pushed. Pushed by the creeps who had harassed and humiliated her, until she slunk into hiding. Pushed by the knights, who had excluded her from their ranks, until she meekly accepted being their cleaner.

Pushed, to a certain extent, even by Marly, who had wanted a relationship that Kiri wasn't really ready for.

That was an unsettling thought, but an interesting one. Did she actually love Marly at all, or was it just that the woman had been the first kind and friendly person she'd met for a long time?

But that didn't matter now. Marly was still her friend, and in trouble, and Kiri now had the strength and ability to help. She lengthened her stride, then began to jog.

She nearly lost all her strength again when she caught sight of the fortress, the high walls pale through the dark fog, and the gaping void where the gatehouse should be. She took a deep breath, drew her long sword, and started up the short road that lay ahead of her.

She stopped abruptly as she stepped on a piece of wood. A broken piece of the barricade, she realised. This was where the militia and the warriors of the Order had fallen. So shouldn't there be bodies lying around?

She peered through the gloom, but apart from a few other shards of wood, there was nothing lying on the road. A large dark patch on the cliff caught her eye, and she went back to investigate. She found a huge gouge where a chunk had been blasted out of the rock face. This was where the beam from the lich's sword had struck, just as the mage had said.

Then just here was where the rock fall crushed the priests. But there was nothing.

She walked forward, and suddenly stumbled. The road surface was uneven just here, strange lumps sticking up. Then she understood. The magic of the road was busily absorbing the fallen stone. An hour later and the road would be smooth again.

What about the bodies? The road would absorb rocks and dirt, and snow and ice would melt and run off, but the magic shouldn't affect human bodies.

She knelt and ran her hand over the bumps of the road. She felt a sticky dampness and brought her hand up to sniff at it. Yes, there was blood there. The priests had died here, but someone, or something, had removed the bodies.

Who could have done that? Surely no one else could have come up here before her. That left the undead. Had the monsters taken the bodies, perhaps to eat on their travels?

She shuddered at the image that thought brought to mind. Then she remembered her father's story, about throwing the corpses off the cliff. She hurried to the side of the road, and leaned over the wall to look down. It was hard to see much, in the fog and gathering darkness, but far below she could make out a great tangled mass of limbs. On top of it, she could see the faint shine of bodies in plate armour. That was definitely the knights, though she couldn't tell how many there were.

Someone had thrown the bodies down there, but who? And why? The undead wouldn't have tidied the place up before they left. Puzzled, she looked around, and suddenly noticed how dim it was getting. She only had a few minutes left before it was fully dark, a few minutes in which she had to get to the Great Tower. She pushed herself to her feet and jogged up the road.

When she reached the remains of the gatehouse, she carefully picked her way over the fallen stones, then cautiously began climbing the pile. The rocks shifted and clattered under her feet, and she cringed at the noise she was making. She stopped at the top, listening for a moment, before craning her neck to look around the corner of the wall.

There was no fog within the walls. It seemed that the environmental spells on the fortress were still working, keeping out undesirable weather. Rubble was strewn across the courtyard, and thickening shadows cloaked the ruined buildings. She could neither hear nor see any enemies, but that gloom could just about hide an army.

She had no choice, though. She had to get through there... No, she didn't. She could go along the wall, just as she had before. The way was narrower, but at least she would be able to see. She slid back and reached to pull herself up.

The whiteness of the wall seemed to brighten suddenly. Startled, Kiri pulled back, and the glow faded. She blinked, staring at the wall, then experimentally leaned closer again. The white light increased once more.

It was the magic in the wall that she was seeing. Its glow was faint, as if it came from deep within the rock, and only just reached the surface. She had to put her face close to the wall to see it. Well, it was good that the magic of the walls was still strong, but it wouldn't give enough light to help her. She began climbing again, this time making less noise.

At the top, she crouched and looked out over the fortress. It was warmer here, and she could see surprisingly clearly - the broken buildings below her, the inner courtyard and the fallen wing of the knights' hall. The Great Tower was a dark shape rising into the sky. She frowned. No lights were shining from the massive building.

She glanced back the way she came, down the rubble slope and out over the road. Something caught her eye and she froze. Far below her, in the ravine where the bodies lay piled, something was moving... Wasn't there?

She frowned. She thought she had seen a dark shape crawling along the cliff wall, but now she couldn't see anything there. She squinted, trying to resolve the shapes into something recognisable. That helped, but it was still too dark and foggy to see anything clearly.

Maybe her eyes were playing tricks on her. Or maybe not all of the undead had left. Either way, it was even more important that she get to safety. Crouching low, she scuttled along the wall, her sword held out in front, glowing softly before her.

At the watchtower, she shied away from the door, remembering how the shadow had leaped out at her the last time she was there. Nothing happened, though. Now she was onto the inner wall, but this part didn't join onto the wall around to the Great Tower - the watchtower blocked the way. She would have to go along to the fallen inner gatehouse, climb down there and get across the inner courtyard.

The last of the light was nearly gone. She stood at the top of the broken wall, and looked down. There seemed to be nothing moving below, not in either of the courtyards. She sniffed. There was no smell, such as she would expect from the rotting flesh of the undead. Or perhaps the fortress' environmental spells removed unpleasant odours too. She thought back, but couldn't recall ever encountering a bad smell outdoors. Indoors, there had been plenty of stinks. She particularly remembered the smell of chamberpots.

But she was wasting time. Moving quickly, she slid down the slope, then sprinted across the courtyard, eyes flicking from side to side, looking for enemies. The dark, blank windows in the parts of the knights' halls still standing gave her a creepy feeling, but it must have been just her imagination. Nothing moved, and nothing leaped out at her.

She slowed once more as she approached the remains of the third gatehouse, half expecting an ambush there. At the base of the pile, she stopped. More than stone blocked the gateway. Something huge and white stretched across almost the whole of the gap.

It took a moment before she realised what it was. It was the skull of the dragon. Some ancient magical defence must have struck it down when it touched the tower - that was the bright flare of light she had seen that night. She snorted softly in amusement. That must have annoyed the lich. But somehow he had avoided being destroyed with his mount.

Kiri spun quickly to her left, her sword rising to guard. Something moved in the ruined part of the halls, two figures moving towards her. She started edging up the rubble, then stopped as she saw that they were wearing chainmail. Men-at-arms? Survivors?

She started to call out to them, but the only sound she made was a surprised squeak, as another shape emerged from the wreckage, even closer.

A familiar shape. She would recognise that figure anywhere, even in this darkness.

'Marly!' she shouted with delight, and ran forwards, a huge grin splitting her face. She knew she would find her, she knew Marly would be all right!

Her friend looked to be badly injured, though, the way she shuffled through the rubble. Kiri slowed, her smile fading, as she got close enough to see more clearly. Was Marly's left arm missing?

Kiri stopped, her mouth opening in a cry of shock, but no sound came. _No!_

Marly's arm was indeed gone. And her throat had been torn out.

Kiri stared, gasping for breath. This couldn't be true! Marly's head came up, and Kiri felt bile rise in her throat. The woman's right cheek had been chewed off, tooth marks showing in the exposed bone, stark white in the gloom. She wore just a few tattered remnants of her uniform, great wounds visible in her rotting flesh. The eyes held only an evil red light, no trace of humanity left.

Trembling, Kiri stumbled back, and became aware of movement, on either side. The undead hadn't left the fortress after all. That had just been conjecture, theories from her father and Reverend Torreyns, and she had been foolish to treat it as fact.

More undead were emerging from the halls, surrounding her, dozens of them. But she couldn't spare any thought for them, she just wanted to get away from the horror in front of her.

She turned to run, then lurched sideways as claws hissed past her face. Her sword came up automatically, slicing through the creature's arm at the elbow.

It looked like a drowned man, skin pale and translucent, clearly showing the purple and black flesh beneath. Thin dark hair stuck damply to its head, with a thick puckered scar running down its face from crown to chin. Red points showed in the depths of its eyes, and sharp teeth glistened in its drooling mouth.

The loss of its arm didn't seem to bother it. No blood flowed from the wound, and it drew itself up for another attack. Kiri slashed at it, cutting a shallow line down its chest. Not a fatal wound, but enough to weaken it, to make the creature draw back. That was enough, space to get past, to get away.

Kiri lunged for the gap, but was jerked back by claws catching in her hair. She stumbled, then twisted, her sword swinging around and up as she tried to look over shoulder, to see what had seized her.

The magic blade cut easily through both arm and neck. The arm, its fingers still twined in Kiri's hair, swung down to thump against her back. The headless body fell, twitching, to the ground.

And Marly's head bounced off a piece of rock.

Kiri looked down, as the head rolled to a stop near her foot. The red glow in Marly's eyes faded, and was gone.

Kiri went very still. She stood there for a long moment, just looking at the ruin of her friend's body.

Then she looked up, to the monsters encircling her. Not just dozens now, but more than a hundred, all around.

She felt no fear, though.

What was there left to be afraid of?

She raised her sword, and started killing.

* * *

Chapter Sixteen - Chapel

Her sword was stuck in the spine of a dying ghoul. She tugged at it, feeling it shift, but then had to duck, as another monster leaped towards her. Its clawed foot kicked her painfully in the left shoulder as it tumbled over her, smashing into two more undead who were lunging forward, throwing them back.

She wrenched her sword free, and spun, slashing at the creatures coming up behind her. One monster stumbled back, its arm hanging by a scrap of flesh. The other fell, as her sword tore open its belly and rotting intestines spilled out.

Despite their wounds, they immediately tried to resume their attack, and something she had cut in half moments before crawled forward and clamped itself onto her boot, its fangs gnawing at the leather.

She struck at it, but even as she did so, a terrible blow from behind caught her on the right hip, numbing it. She stumbled, almost fell, and had to twist desperately to avoid cutting off her own leg. Blood flowed freely from deep claw marks on her left arm.

Kiri had slain just five of the undead around her. The rest would drag her down in moments, their numbers overwhelming her. But she was calm, as calm as if she were simply practicing sword patterns. She felt nothing.

A pure, bright radiance, originating somewhere to her left, suddenly lifted the gloom, and a man's voice rang out, 'By Orpyren's grace, I command you, begone!'

Immediately, the undead recoiled, hissing, shrieking, screaming. The light seemed to burn them, and they fled from it.

Most of them. Although many dived back into hiding in whatever hole they had emerged from, twenty or more resisted the power of the light. They turned towards the source, seeking to obliterate it.

Kiri took full advantage of their distraction. She struck at their backs, their unprotected necks, smashing them down. She killed three, then looked around for more. One, still clad in a cuirass, looked to have been a knight, though the evil spirit within it had twisted it into something hideous. She cut off its head and kicked its body to the ground, then went after the next creature.

The light faded, and she heard the man call, 'Quickly, this way. I can't hold them!' She looked in the direction of his voice and saw a figure, still softly glowing, fighting off a dozen undead with a huge mace. It looked too big for him to wield, too big for anyone, but he was using it to good effect. Every blow threw a monster back, and great sweeping swings scattered them.

But they must have been the more powerful undead. Despite his efforts they continued to attack, and he had not felled any. He stood in the doorway of a small building near the gates - one of the chapels. Of course! Holy ground. It would be safe there.

'Hurry,' he cried again, 'They're coming back!' She looked around and saw that he was right. With the burning light gone, the rest of the undead were crawling back out of the ruins.

She lingered for a moment, torn between killing more undead and staying alive. Then she turned towards the priest. He had put himself in danger for her. He deserved to have some return for his efforts.

She ran up behind the creatures besieging the chapel, her sword flashing. She killed two before they even turned to face her. A blow from the priest hurled a monster backward. It fell back against Kiri, and she took the opportunity to rip open its chest. It didn't get up again.

An awful pain erupted in Kiri's ribs as great claws struck from the side. Her bones cracked and she felt blood leaking down her shirt. Breathing suddenly became difficult, and her vision darkened so that she could barely see. She lashed out wildly in the direction the blow had come from, trying to keep the monster back.

She felt her sword hit something, but she was off-balance. She stumbled forward, into another monster. It was facing the priest but instantly whirled, its black face glaring just inches from hers. Its gaping mouth opened wide to bite at her, to tear off her face, and the reek of rotten meat engulfed her.

A crushing blow from behind smashed its skull. The priest raised his mace and struck once more, sending the monster to the ground. Kiri lurched again, unable to stand straight, and she fell against the priest. He had to dodge sideways to avoid her sword, but he quickly wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into the chapel. The undead howled, unable to reach their prey.

'Come,' the priest said, 'We must move back. They cannot enter, but we're not safe here.'

Kiri turned, leaning heavily on him. The interior of the chapel was pitch black, though not just because of the night. It was made of white stone, but soot coated the walls, and the wooden benches were charred. Only the rear wall was unmarred, with the small altar and the shining Scrolls, the emblem of Orpyren, Goddess of Truth and Justice.

In front of the altar, blankets covered five bodies. Kiri looked blankly at them as the priest helped her down the aisle and through a door at the back. He shut the door behind them, then groped in the darkness for another door. Only when they were through that door, and it was closed again, did he make a light.

It was a small bedroom, narrow and plain. Beside the bed there was a desk and a chair. Kiri stumbled to the chair, pulled it out and slumped into it. That was a mistake. A flare of pain from her ribs, from her whole body, almost made her pass out. Unable to see, she sat gasping for breath, trying to stay upright.

The pain receded and her vision slowly cleared. She carefully pushed herself straight, wincing at a sharp jab from her ribs, and fumbled in her belt pouch for the ointment and bandages.

'Oh, I can help you,' the priest said, as he saw what she was doing. He came over and crouched before her. 'Which is the worst injury?'

Kiri couldn't focus on him. He was just a blurry shape in front of her. Nor could she find the strength for speech. She just waved weakly to her left, to the ribs that were aching so badly.

The priest carefully pulled her cloak back, then gently pulled up her tunic and shirt to expose the wound. Despite his care, he bumped her, and another wave of agony hit her. Her eyes closed and she sucked air in through her clenched teeth.

She felt the touch of the priest's hand, then warmth spreading through her ribs. The pain faded, and she actually felt her bones knit themselves back together. She sighed and relaxed as the discomfort eased. He turned his attention to her left arm and soon that too was healed. 'Anything else?' he asked.

Kiri stretched cautiously. She seemed to be bruised all over, but otherwise whole. 'No,' she told him, 'No... I'm all right now.' She opened her eyes and sat up, then remembered to say, 'Thank you.' She looked up at the priest where he now stood.

He was a strange sight. He wore a blue woollen robe, with thick white bands around the cuffs, but the entire right side of it was burnt black. The skin on the right side of his head was pink, clearly newly healed from a serious burn, and his short black hair and beard had been seared off that side. Looking past his injuries, past the fatigue in his deep brown eyes, she saw that he was fairly young for a priest, not yet thirty.

His eyes sharpened. 'What's that?' pointing to something beside her.

She looked where he was pointing, and saw a hunk of mottled flesh hanging against the back of the chair. Marly's arm, still tangled in her hair.

The sight of it hit her like a blow to the chest. She lurched forward in the chair, bent over, unsure whether she was going to laugh or vomit. But the only thing that came out was a choked cough.

She sat there, limply, her eyes shut, trying to get her breathing under control again. She heard the priest step forward and felt him gently remove the fingers from her hair. He walked to the door, opened it, something hit the ground outside, the door closed again. She didn't look up until she heard him sit down on the bed.

As she raised her head, exhaustion struck, and she almost slumped over again. Her stomach felt hollow, and she tried to remember when she had last eaten. She had grabbed a snack at home before she set off, but other than that, the only thing she had eaten today was breakfast in the temple. Foolish. She should have brought food with her.

She swivelled her head to face the priest, and asked him for something to eat. At least, she tried. Her voice just made a dry rasp. She coughed, swallowed, and tried again.

'There is... _some_ food,' the priest told her, 'but not very much, I'm afraid.' She saw the fear in his eyes, and guessed that he was thinking of dying, and the choice he had - starve to death, or get ripped apart by undead?

He looked away, seemingly aware that his anxiety was visible to her. He got up and left the room, returning a few minutes later with a tray, which he set on the table beside her. A plate of dried meats, some stale crusts of bread, a jug of water and a mug.

'That's all I have, that's the last of it,' he said, but she was already reaching for the jug. Except that she was still holding her sword. She looked at it, the gleam of its magic shining through a coating of black gore. She should clean it. Marly had told her that a sword should be cleaned as soon as possible after use.

She pulled up her cloak, and used the hem of it to wipe the steel. The priest made a noise of protest but she ignored him. Some of the stains resisted her rubbing, so she picked up the jug and poured water down the blade. Now the priest really did object.

'Do you have to do that here? This really isn't the place... ' His voice faded out. She was ignoring him. Marly had said she should clean the sword. Only when the blade was spotlessly clean did she sheathe it.

Now she turned to look pointedly at the priest's mace, standing in the corner by the table. Its wooden shaft was six feet long, and it looked like the bole of a young tree, thickening and flaring slightly to the head. The head itself was a dark glassy knob, covered by a silver tracery that would have been beautiful, had most of it not been hidden under a thick layer of filth.

She raised an eyebrow to the priest, and he flushed, very noticeable on his new pink skin.

'I'll clean it later,' he protested, 'but... aren't you hungry?' He was trying to divert her, she knew, but her stomach rumbled, and she turned back to the table with sudden urgency.

She sloshed water into the mug and quickly drank it down. It was cold and sweet, and that alone went a long way to lifting her fatigue. She filled the mug again, drank, and reached for the plate.

The priest sat on the bed and watched her eat, then decided it was time for introductions. 'I'm Jareth, a disciple of Orpyren.'

Kiri looked up. Disciple? That was the equivalent of acolyte. He wasn't even a full priest. Yet he had scattered the undead, and fought them, and his healing had been as quick and competent as any Reverend Torreyns had done.

She hadn't paid much attention to the priests in the fortress. They had mostly stayed in these chapels, where the cleaners didn't go. She dimly recalled people in robes, blue and white for Orpyren, red and white for Chellorin, and brown and grey for Hakterruk. But she'd never met them, never spoken to them.

Jareth seemed to be waiting for her to say something. She swallowed her mouthful before she spoke, though. She knew her manners.

'What happened to you?' she asked, her voice low, and she gestured, 'Those burns.'

He lifted a hand to his pink cheek. 'This? Dragonfire.' She looked at him questioningly and he started to explain. 'We...' He paused, sighed. 'I should start at the beginning.'

'It was late at night, three nights ago. We had just gone to bed, though we were not yet asleep, when I felt afraid, as if some terrible evil was approaching. Deacon Barris felt it too, and we woke the others, in the other chapels.' The way he put it, it sounded as if he had been sharing a bed with his superior.

'The three senior priests went out to investigate. Then Deacon Barris came back to tell us that there were undead attacking, that the guards were dead, and that he and the others had to go and raise the alarm. And he told us there was a dracolich.'

'Dracolich?' Kiri asked, before she realised what the word must mean.

Jareth told her anyway. 'It's a dragon that has become a lich. It's undead, but it still has all the powers that it had in life - like dragonfire,' and he gently touched his cheek again.

'The rest of us collected all our holy water, and stood in the chapel doorways, ready to defend them. Holy water burns undead like acid,' he explained.

'We heard the alarms and knew that our elders had succeeded. But we could see the dracolich above us and we were terrified of it - I think it was a magical fear that it spread. Then I saw the mace on the altar. It's really just ceremonial, and isn't intended for fighting, but I thought I could use it against the undead.'

Kiri turned her head to look at the ceremonial mace. As she did so, she thought she saw it glowing, but when she looked directly at it, there was no light visible from it. Turning back, she saw the glow again, from the corner of her eye. The enchantment must be weaker, or perhaps more subtle, than the one on her sword.

'It's magical?' she prompted.

'Well, blessed, I guess. It's not really the same thing, though it kind of works in a similar way. But anyway, I had just picked it up when we saw a huge blast of fire and the alarms stopped. I was hurrying back to the door, where Tommil was standing - he is our novice,' he explained, then stopped. 'Was, he _was_ our novice,' he sadly corrected himself.

'Anyway, I was halfway back to the door when more fire came, roaring into the chapel itself. Tommil was engulfed immediately, but I was further back. I turned away and dropped to the floor - not fast enough, obviously, but I survived. But the heat and pain made me pass out.'

'When I woke up, everything was quiet. I found Tommil's body lying in the doorway, and I looked out and saw undead crawling all over the fortress. I found the others dead in their chapels, all burned. You saw the bodies, where I put them, out in front of the altar. Then I came and hid back here.' He looked miserable, his arms wrapped around his ribs, his head hanging low.

Kiri pondered his words for a moment, then asked, 'What happened to Deacon Barris and the others?'

'I don't know.' His voice was faint, and he sounded like he was close to tears. 'I think... I think they died, in the dragonfire that stopped the alarms.' And now tears were dripping off the end of his nose.

Kiri looked at him. Was he mourning a superior, a friend, or a lover? _A friend, a lover_... An image rose into her mind - a ruined head, lying at her feet. She met the gaze of its vacant eyes.

'So why are you still wearing that burnt robe?' she asked, changing the subject.

Jareth straightened up in evident surprise, and looked down at his charred clothing. The confusion on his face was all the answer she needed. He had been in shock, and hadn't even thought about his robe.

He got up and shuffled around the bed to take a clean whole robe from a chest. Kiri wondered if he was going to change his clothes right there in front of her, but he just stared at her for a while, before mechanically shuffling out the door.

She finished off the last of the food, washing down the dry crusts with several mugfuls of pure water.

The priest took a long time, longer than it took to change a robe, and she was feeling sleepy.

She dozed, slumped against the table.

* * *

Chapter Seventeen - Corruption

Kiri awoke to find herself lying on the bed, a thin ray of light coming from a small shuttered globe, fashioned like a lantern, sitting on the table. She struggled up, aching, stiff and sore, then stood, slowly stretching, easing out the pains. This wasn't too different from how she felt after a strenuous training session with Marly.

She reached for the shining globe, and her fumbling fingers knocked the shutter right back. A sudden wash of light dazzled her, and she had to blink several times before she could look around the room.

The priest had cleared away the plate and tray, but he had left the mug and the jug, now refilled. Kiri became aware of a bitter taste in her mouth, and she reached for the water. A couple of mugfuls removed the taste. They also made her feel more awake, and relieved the emptiness of her stomach, which she hadn't noticed until that point. But they also alerted her to her full bladder.

She bent down, to look under the bed for a chamberpot, and gasped as searing pain shot through her thighs. Her legs collapsed, and she caught herself on the bed before she could crash to the floor. Alright, maybe it was a bit worse than the after-effects of a training session.

She lowered herself to the floor and looked. No chamberpot. There must be privies somewhere nearby.

By carefully pushing herself up, she avoided all but a few twinges of pain, but she grimaced as she started to walk to the door. She could only manage a slow shuffle.

She opened the door and looked out, only to see an unlit corridor. She had to shuffle back to the table to get the glowing globe before she could see anything - then saw that there were shuttered light globes built into the walls, the same as the ones in the knights' halls. Of course, she had seen them last night. But she didn't open them now, only using the small lantern globe to light her way.

This side of the corridor held four doors, and there were doors at each end. Those must be bedrooms and suchlike. A single door on the opposite wall must lead into the chapel proper. She didn't want to go there just yet, she wanted - needed - the privies.

She found them in a small narrow room to her right. There was also a washbasin, and she took the opportunity to wash.

The washbasin had two spouts at the back. She knew how to use those, it was just like in the knights' halls. The spout on the left had a blue enamel knob on top, with a snowflake symbol on it. If she pressed that knob, cold water would come out of the spout. The one on the right was similar, except the knob was red, with a flame symbol. It gave out hot water.

She unbuckled her sword belt, then stripped off her clothes, with due care for her aches, until she stood naked. She put the plug into the basin and pressed the red knob to fill it with hot water, while her left hand reached underneath the basin to pull out washcloth and towel.

The hot wet cloth eased away her pain, and she sighed with pleasure. As she washed, she looked at her collection of bruises. The right hip was vividly coloured, and so was her left shoulder, but the arm and ribs that Jareth had healed were completely unmarked.

She touched a hand to her hair and grimaced at the feel of it. She looked under the basin again and found a comb, which she dipped into the water and dragged through her hair. That was the most she could manage at the moment. It felt a bit cleaner, anyway.

She couldn't wash her clothes, but she shook off the dried blood. Once she was dressed again, and had tidied away the things she had used, she picked up the light and headed for the door to the chapel. She could move more freely, now that she didn't ache so much.

A faint pre-dawn light softly illuminated the chapel - and it was filled with the smell of burned flesh. Kiri wrinkled her nose and stopped in the doorway. The great mace, finally cleaned, lay on the altar, behind which Jareth knelt, his eyes closed.

Kiri started to speak, to say good morning, then paused as she saw that he seemed to be totally unaware of her presence. Was he in the middle of some ritual? She waited several minutes, but he still didn't move. How long was this going to take?

She soon got tired of waiting for him, and turned back to the inner rooms, to take a look around. She started with the door right at the end of the corridor. A large comfortable bedroom, which must belong to Deacon Barris, along with the small study next to it. There was a bookcase there, much smaller than the one Reverend Torreyns had, but Kiri was still drawn to it.

She became somewhat less interested as she looked at some of the titles. _Indications of a Justified Moral Structure_? That didn't sound very stimulating. Most of the books were philosophy, theology or law, but then she found one about the creatures of the Amsilar Forest. She started to pull it from the shelf, then hesitated. She would just take a look through the rest of the rooms before she became engrossed in a book.

The next room held the privies, then the room she had slept in, then another bedroom just the same. Opening the door at the other end of the corridor, she found herself in another corridor, five doors on one side, one door on the other and another door at the far end. This must be the neighbouring chapel. She hadn't realised they were connected.

She quickly glanced through the rooms here, the rooms of the priests of Hakterruk. They were much the same as the ones in the chapel of Orpyren, and so were the rooms in the next chapel, where the priests of Chellorin lived.

It wasn't until she got to the bedroom of the head priest of Chellorin that she found something interesting. It was the last room she came to, the opposite end to Deacon Barris' room, but so luxuriously decorated as to make his look humble.

A silver goblet beside a crystal decanter, both standing on an ornate wooden table inlaid with gold. The large bed, with rumpled satin sheets, was also richly ornamented. A wardrobe with a full-length mirror on the door, a tall cabinet with carved ivory panels depicting scenes of warfare, a chest with an elaborate, though rather ugly, silver design inset in the lid.

Kiri stared, and stepped into the room. Her knowledge of fine woodwork started adding up the pieces she saw. The furniture alone would be worth over three thousand kurushi! Then there was the value of the soft furnishings, tapestries and carpets, probably another thousand or more. Even the knights' rooms weren't so extravagant.

She knew that the God of Righteous Vengeance was popular with the knights, but she'd had no idea the priest of Chellorin could afford to live like this. She wondered what their temple in Silverdale looked like inside. A memory came to her, of walking past that temple with her father, and he had snorted and said, "God of Fire and Vengeance? More like God of Hotheads". The priests of Chellorin were warriors, and were not known for temperate behaviour.

Behind a painted wooden screen at the back of the room, Kiri found evidence of that martial nature. A suit of full plate armour stood on a stand, an empty stand beside it. Weapons hung from a rack fixed to the wall - a short sword, a broad sword and an axe, though there was space for more. A chair stood beside another chest, plainer than the other, and with keys hanging from the lock.

The priest must have left them there in his haste, and presumably the empty stand had held a suit of chainmail, which he would have donned before going out to face the undead. And he would have taken weapons from the rack - as Kiri was doing. She had noticed that the short sword was glowing, as were all the weapons, and she had reflexively removed her ordinary short sword and swapped it for the magical one.

The notion that she was stealing came to her as she was clipping the sword to her belt, and made her pause. It was one thing to take weapons from a field of battle, but to take them from someone's room was something quite different. Kiri frowned, looking around. No, the priest was dead, and she needed weapons to fight the undead. A God of Vengeance should understand that.

Now she looked around for what else she could use. She dismissed the armour, even though it too showed a slight glow of enchantment. Speed and agility were her strengths, and she didn't want the encumbrance of all that metal slowing her down. Besides, it looked to have been made for someone shorter and broader than she was. Ill-fitting armour was the last thing she needed.

That left the chest. It was unlocked, and she flipped it open. It was full of warrior's equipment. A surcoat and a banner - both bearing Chellorin's symbol of the Flame - gauntlets, bracers and more, all piled in haphazardly, further indication of someone in a hurry. But sitting on top of all that, there was a small wooden box.

The box had no lock, only a catch, and Kiri flicked it open. The inside was shaped and padded to hold four cylindrical glass vials, though there were only three there. Two were filled with an opaque yellow oily liquid, while the other held a watery red fluid. Their tops were sealed with wax, with a single word stamped in each. The red one had the word 'WAR', and both the yellow ones were stamped 'HEAL'.

Kiri had never come across magic potions before, but she was sure that was what she now held. 'HEAL' must mean they were healing potions, but 'WAR'? Presumably it was something to help you in warfare, though she wouldn't like to try a potion when she didn't know precisely what it did.

It might make her faster, stronger, tougher, but what if it also made her a berserker? Not unlikely for a potion belonging to a priest of Chellorin. She wouldn't like to be out of control, charging into battle, slaying friends and enemies alike, with no regard for her own safety. _A mutilated head at her feet, undead all around her_...

No, she wouldn't risk that one. She put it back into the box, but took both of the healing potions and put them into her pouch. Her hand moved with reluctance though, as she had to once more push away the sense of being a thief.

The chest yielded no other useful items, though she pondered the bracers for a bit. But they were bronze, and heavy, and she decided she would be better off without them. She closed the lid on the chest, and the keys jangled.

Keys. There were five keys on the small key ring. Kiri plucked the keys out of the lock and walked around the room, flicking open the wall light globes, looking for other locked containers. The silver-decorated chest was the only one she found, and though one of the keys opened it, it contained only clothing. The wardrobe had no lock, and was also full of clothing and footwear.

The cabinet held many interesting things, books and ornaments and boxes, but Kiri's eyes immediately went to a wooden platter and bowl, sitting together on a shelf. Slices of crispbread, a half-round of yellow cheese and a cheese knife lay on the platter, and the bowl was full with an assortment of dried fruits.

Kiri's mouth watered, and she remembered that she hadn't had any breakfast. She placed her light on the shelf and hurriedly cut slices of cheese, then ate, alternating between cheese and crispbread, and handfuls of dried fruit.

Once the edge had gone from her hunger, she stopped eating, and considered. She should have brought food with her to the fortress, but now she had food, and she wouldn't be caught without again.

Rummaging through the wardrobe uncovered a stack of handkerchiefs. Kiri placed the remaining cheese and crackers on one and tied it into a secure bundle. She did the same for the fruit, until she had it in three neat packages.

They wouldn't fit into her pouch, though, and putting them in her pockets made awkward and uncomfortable bulges. There must be another way she could carry them. She remembered seeing a satchel in the wardrobe, and quickly pulled it out.

It was of the finest craftwork, smooth black leather and silver fittings. Kiri removed her cloak and slung the satchel over her shoulder, so that it hung at her right hip. She had to slide the belt pouch along the belt to make it sit right, but once that was out of the way, she clipped the satchel to her sword belt. That would stop it swinging around and getting in her way.

She replaced her cloak and put the food parcels into the satchel, then resumed looking through the cabinet. The boxes proved to hold a collection of golden chalices and other ritual paraphernalia, set with rubies and other fiery gems and engraved with the Flame.

A sword, similarly decorated, caught her eye, and she peered closely at it. It didn't seem to have any magic though, and she replaced everything.

But that was only two keys she had found locks for. What could the other three be for?

The door. There was a lock there, and Kiri walked over to try the keys in it, finding one to fit it. But then she paused, looking at the lock. There were no locks in any other doors, not in all three chapels. The priest's wealth must have made him afraid of thieves, though it would be a brave thief who dared the chapel of a war god.

Now Kiri returned to the previous room, the study, to see if she could find more locks there. As soon as she entered, she stopped. She had only glanced in before, and had thought the study to be plain, like those in the other chapels.

It was less flamboyant than the bedroom, but it was certainly not plain.

The deceptively dull patterned carpets were from the Iskeni lands, far to the south, and were appallingly expensive. Even her father, a reasonably affluent master craftsman, could not afford a single one of these.

The bookcase was finely made, decorated, and had glass doors. That was ostentatious. Glass wasn't extremely costly, but it was more than most people could afford. Many of the houses in Silverdale didn't have glass in their windows.

Kiri couldn't identify the exotic hardwood that the desk was made of, but it was clearly something unusual, and the construction of the desk wasn't cheap, either. But it had drawers, and all the drawers had locks, and she tried the last two keys.

One key opened all of the drawers. Most drawers held papers, ledgers and lists, and Kiri didn't bother looking too closely at these, but the largest drawer contained a small coffer - with a lock.

She picked up the coffer, and was surprised at its weight. It thumped heavily as she put it down on the desktop. The last key opened it, and Kiri looked inside.

Stacks of gold coins completely filled it, Bryssan coins, bearing the king's head. But these were large, twice the size of kurushi. Four rows by five, and they looked to be in stacks of twenty. Four hundred coins, worth eight hundred kurushi. Why would a priest have so much money?

Kiri noticed a catch holding shut a compartment in the coffer's lid, and she opened it to find two velvet bags. She poured out their contents, and gems spilled across the desktop. Not just rubies, which a priest of Chellorin might have a legitimate use for, but also diamonds, emeralds, sapphires.

Kiri looked at the gems. She looked at the gold. She looked around at the furnishings in the study. She remembered the opulent bedroom. And a slow anger began to burn inside her.

There was no possible justification for this.

This wealth, this splendour, was simply obscene. The priests of Chellorin had the favour of the Order, and they used it - how? To do good deeds? No. For personal luxury and the glorification of war.

This coin wouldn't be used to house children orphaned by rampaging armies. These gems wouldn't feed refugees fleeing from conflict. The creed of Chellorin relished conflict.

Righteous Vengeance? What did that mean, really? Righteous could mean that it was justified, but it could merely be an expression of faith in one's own cause, self-righteousness.

And vengeance? What was that but attacking someone who had done something you didn't like? Hardly noble. Hardly appropriate for the Order of the Star which supported this priesthood, the Order which…

No. Very appropriate for the Order as it had become, decadent and corrupt.

Kiri had seen the wealth in which the knights lived, but she had not understood what it meant. Now she remembered the knights' halls, and saw them with new awareness.

The fine carpets, the elegant porcelain dinnerware, the elaborate tapestries hanging on the walls. The ladies, all in silks and satin and lace. The jewellery, worn by knights and ladies both.

The lavish and extravagant meals, delicacies from all across the northlands, fish and fowl and beast, served up in ludicrously excessive quantities.

The library, full of handmade leather-bound books, tales of adventure and romance, poetry and other entertainments - nothing to do with protecting the common people or enforcing justice.

The halls themselves, saturated with magic to make life easier, and still the knights wouldn't lift a hand to tidy up after themselves. Instead, they employed servants, paying them a pittance and ignoring them. Servants to wash and clean and cook for them.

What was the price of this lifestyle? And who paid? Not the knights, that was for sure. No, the cost was borne by the people the knights were supposed to serve.

The merchants who paid tolls to cross the pass. The tenants who paid exorbitant rents on the properties owned by the Order. The farmers forced off their land because the knights wouldn't make the effort to protect them. The townspeople who could no longer make a living in the Arrel Plains…

The Order's own men-at-arms, who died because they were given inferior weapons.

Kiri's hands tightened on the desktop, the wood digging painfully into her hands, as she remembered...

Marly... strapping on her helm. _Useless_.

Marly... shaking on her chainmail as if it were a linen shirt. _Useless_.

Marly... belting on her swords. _Useless_.

Marly going to defend the fortress - going off to die, because the men-at-arms' equipment was useless.

Because the knights would rather live in opulent luxury than ensure their soldiers were properly equipped.

Rather give money to a priesthood whose prejudices matched their own, than use it to buy decent weapons for the men-at-arms.

Kiri found that she was kneeling, her head bowed against the desk, tears streaming down her face, and she was shaking with grief and rage. She lifted her head and, through her tears, looked at the gold, the gems. _Marly died for this_.

In a sudden burst of fury, Kiri raised her fist to scatter the repulsive wealth.

No. No, that wasn't the way. There must be justice. Justice for the wrongdoing the Order had committed. How, she didn't know. Marly was dead and nothing could change that. The knights were dead too, their fortress ruined.

But not all the knights were dead. The chapters from Venkenka and Mear were still alive, and they would be coming to reclaim what was left of the fortress. They could be held accountable for the deeds of their Order.

But first, there were undead to deal with.

Kiri pushed herself to her feet, and wiped the tears from her face.

There was much to be done.

* * *

Chapter Eighteen - Darkness

The sun had fully risen by the time Kiri returned to the chapel of Orpyren. Sunlight reflected from the fortress walls filled the small chapel with warm light.

That wasn't entirely a good thing. It exposed the full extent of the damage that had been done, highlighting the filthy walls, the ruined benches... and the shrouded bodies.

The corpses may have been charred on the outside, but that didn't stop them from rotting on the inside, and a choking stench rose from them. Kiri ignored the smell though, as she walked past to where Jareth stood in the doorway, the great mace in his hand, looking out to the courtyard.

He turned as she approached. 'The sun has risen, and there are few clouds. My prayers have been answered, and I am filled with the power of Orpyren. I believe we can break free from this ruin.'

He spoke calmly, serenely, with no trace of last night's sorrow and dismay. His prayers must have brought him peace, and he was ready to face his fate. He had shaved his hair and beard, so he longer looked lopsided, but, oddly, there were fresh bruises on his throat.

'I do not know how much of a chance we have,' he continued, 'but it is surely better than staying here to starve.' His tone was gentle, as if he thought to persuade her to leave the safety of the chapel.

Kiri simply reached into her satchel and handed him two of the parcels of food.

'What's this?' he asked as he pulled open the knots, then he looked up at her in surprise as he saw what it was. 'Where did you get this?'

'From the other chapels,' she told him flatly, and he completely lost his careful composure. He flushed dark red and his mouth hung open, moving soundlessly as he tried to find something to say. He looked, and no doubt felt, extremely foolish. Obviously he hadn't even thought to look in the other chapels.

She had found more food in the chapel of Hakterruk, salami, hard cheese, and a loaf of bread that had dried to the consistency of pumice. It would be edible once soaked in water.

Her search of that chapel had found some more gems, but they made sense in the possession of a priest of the God of Mining. There were two more magic potions as well, but these were marked with Dwarvish runes, so she had no idea what they were for.

The food, the gems, the potions, a hundred gold coins and everything else that was useful were now in her satchel. Even the red potion that she had earlier rejected was there. She might come across someone who knew what it was, or she could find herself in a desperate situation where she might as well risk it.

The other valuable items she had found were locked in the chests in the chapel of Chellorin, and the door was locked as well. It should all be safe there until she had a chance to come back for it.

Jareth had sufficiently recovered from his embarrassment to eat the food she had given him. He seemed ravenous. Had that been his dinner she had eaten last night? He ate quickly, cheese and dried fruit disappearing into his mouth. Too quickly. He choked, coughed and gasped, then rubbed his chest to relieve indigestion.

Kiri turned and walked back to the inner rooms, to return with the water jug and the mug. The young disciple drank deeply.

'Thank you,' he said, 'for the food, and this...' His wave indicated the jug. He paused, then looked up at her. 'Um, I... don't know your name.'

Kiri looked at him. Hadn't they done introductions last night? No, he had given his name, but she had not given hers. It didn't matter.

'Kiri,' she told him.

'Kiri,' he echoed, then, 'I take it that's the short form.' He hastened on as she just looked at him, 'I mean, Elven names are usually fairly long, and they're just shortened for the convenience of Humans...' He realised he was babbling, and stopped.

He seemed to think she was an Elf, obviously not recognising her as one of the cleaners. Had he even noticed the servants? Well, she had been unaware of his existence, so it wasn't surprising that he had been unaware of her.

She had intended that on Winter Festival she would tell Marly her secret Elven name, but it didn't matter now. Secret names were for children, and she was no longer a child.

'My full name is Salkirimarillias.'

'Oh. That's a pretty... name...' His voice trailed off under her flat stare.

Now his hand rose to his throat. 'Right. Kiri. Um. I'm sorry I woke you last night. It's just I thought you would be more comfortable on the bed. I should have known better than to touch a sleeping warrior. My fault.'

Had she made those bruises on his throat? She couldn't remember it, she didn't recall waking at all. But it explained why he was now looking at her so nervously. Enough of that. There were more important matters to hand.

'I didn't come to the fortress just to leave again. There were reports that there could be survivors in the Great Tower.' Actually, she had come in hope of finding Marly, but she wouldn't abandon anyone else here, even if they were knights.

Jareth looked confused for a moment at the change in topic, then shook his head.

'Not any more. There were some, but they tried to get out the other day. Only it was heavily overcast that day, and the undead caught them. I heard screams, but by the time I got to the door, they were already dead, and the undead were dragging their bodies into the ruins.' He shook his head again, sadly.

Kiri frowned. 'What day did this happen?'

'Um, was it yesterday? No, the day before.'

'Then there must be others still in there. Lights were seen in the Tower that night.'

'Oh. Then I guess we should go and see what we can do.' He didn't look very enthusiastic. 'We'd be just as safe there, I suppose, or safer, probably, but... it would be even further to go to get out.'

'I have no intention of leaving until the undead are destroyed.' Where had that resolution come from? But it was right, now that she thought about it. The knights were responsible for Marly's death, and many others, but the undead were the true evil here. She could fight them more effectively from within the fortress than beyond the walls, out on the icy mountainside.

Jareth looked even more dubious, but just waved his mace to the door. 'Let's get started then.' He clearly wanted her to go first.

She frowned at him. Was he really intending to go out there dressed like that, in just a robe and with no equipment besides the mace?

'Do you have any other clothes? We'll have to climb over the rubble of the gatehouse, and you may find that difficult in a robe.'

'Well... I do have a tunic and trousers, but I'm not sure they'll still fit, I haven't worn them for a while.'

'They do fit,' he said, a few minutes later as he emerged from his bedroom. 'I didn't think...'

Kiri straightened up from where she leaned against the corridor wall. 'Can you use armour? Full plate armour?'

Jareth frowned. 'We _are_ given basic instruction in the use of weapons and armour in our novice training, but we're not really warriors. Some of our priests do go out and actively fight injustice, but that's...'

She was supremely uninterested in his explanation. 'Follow me.' She turned and led the way through the chapels to the bedroom of the priest of Chellorin and unlocked the door.

It wasn't until she reached the screen at the back of the room that she realised Jareth had stopped following. He was still standing in the doorway, gaping at the room's furnishings. It was obvious that he had never seen this room before.

'I... I had no idea... How can he live like this? This wealth, this _waste_ of money... How many people could he help with this wealth? This is just _disgusting_!' He turned to Kiri, an expression of appalled consternation on his face.

Kiri nodded in approval. Jareth might not be the most intelligent man around, but his heart was in the right place.

Then a thought occurred to her. He. The priest of Chellorin was a man. So were Deacon Barris, Novice Tommil, and Disciple Jareth himself.

'Were the priests here in the fortress all men?' she asked.

'What? Oh, yes. I think that was at the request of the Order, I don't know why.'

Kiri could well guess the reason. The chauvinistic knights didn't want any women with power in the fortress.

'But you do have women priests in your religion, don't you?'

Jareth looked somewhat offended. 'Of course we do. We serve a Goddess, after all. We have many women, at all levels of the priesthood. In fact, the only priesthood I know of that doesn't allow women is that of Issh'kaan, and they're a bunch of raving lunatics!'

Issh'kaan was another war god, but far more perverted than Chellorin. He was god of murder, assassination, torture, rape, slavery and every other form of cruel, brutal violence. His worship was forbidden throughout the northlands. And like his priests, the Order of the Star didn't allow women priests. The Order was closer to slipping into outright evil than she had thought.

Jareth now stood beside her, and he protested as he saw the armour. 'I couldn't wear that! That's the armour given to priests of Chellorin when they reach the rank of Flameguard.'

Kiri raised an eyebrow. 'So? You can use it in the cause of justice.'

'But, what if Chellorin himself notices, and takes offence? He could...' Jareth caught sight of Kiri's glare, and he blushed sheepishly. 'I guess that is pretty unlikely,' he admitted.

Kiri plucked the mace out of his hand and pushed him towards the armour. The slight weight of the mace surprised her, and she nearly smashed the chair with it, as it swung so lightly. The smallest twitch sent it curving away from the endangered furniture, and Kiri swung it up to hold it across her palms.

Despite its great size, there was very little mass in it. The weight seemed concentrated in the head, with a counterbalance in the grip, making it very easy to wield. The wooden shaft seemed to have no weight at all. She considered the impressive weapon for a moment, before laying it down on the chair so she could help Jareth with the armour.

It fitted him almost perfectly, though he was thinner than the man it was made for. Kiri found gauntlets in the chest and he added those to the outfit. There was no helm to go with it, but it was certainly splendid protection - as long as speed wasn't required. Jareth shook his arms, then took up the mace, to move out into the room and try a few swings with his weapon.

'It's much lighter than I expected,' he marvelled. 'It hardly slows me down at all.' Perhaps it wouldn't be as bad as she had thought; it even made less sound than she had anticipated.

'What other equipment do you have?' she asked him. She hadn't searched the rooms in the chapel of Orpyren. Jareth was still alive, so he had the rights to whatever was there. 'Did Deacon Barris have any healing potions?'

'Well, he did, but I used them to heal my burns.' Jareth looked slightly embarrassed, as if wanting to heal his life-threatening burns had been somehow self-indulgent. 'There's only a Truth potion left now. Shall I get that?'

'Yes, get it, and a cloak, a bag, anything that might be useful. Take your time and make sure you are properly equipped. I'll wait here. We'll go out through this chapel, its door is closer to the gate.'

'Oh, I hadn't thought of that.' He gave her a smile, before clanking off down the corridor. Kiri winced at the noise. It _was_ less than she had thought it would be, but it was still awfully loud.

She locked up everything behind her and opened the door to the area of worship. It was as badly burned as the chapel of Orpyren was, and that was ironic. A large brazier dominated the altar. A fire was supposed to be kept burning there at all times, but it had long since burned out.

Kiri moved to the outer doorway, and stood there, looking up at the sky. It seemed like ages since she had last seen a blue sky and she smiled up at it. The fluffy white clouds were so pleasant after the long grey days. But those clouds were getting thicker. The sky would be overcast again by the afternoon. Well, she would enjoy it while it lasted.

She stripped the glove from one hand and reached out of the shadows to the sunlight. The weak winter sun gave little warmth, but that little was wonderful on her skin. She kept her hand out for a couple of minutes, before swapping hands. Then she thought, if it's safe to stick my hands out...

She carefully stuck her head out the doorway, looking all around. There was no movement, nothing to be seen. Moving slowly, she stepped outside. A sudden thought made her whip around, staring up at the roof, but there was nothing there. Tucking her gloves into her belt, she moved into the sunlight, and turned her face towards the sun, holding her hands up to catch the warmth.

Every few minutes she turned away from the light, warily looking around, casting her eyes over the buildings, watching for the slightest movement. The knights' training hall, seemingly undamaged, but darker than she recalled. The knights' halls, one wing lying in ruins, the rest standing strong though oddly shadowed. Probably soot from the fires.

There was no motion anywhere, but slowly growing came the creepy feeling that she was being watched. That had to be her imagination, how could someone watching her give her a feeling? But the sensation increased, and she realised that it would not be someone, but some_thing_. Something evil.

It seemed to be coming from her right, from the central wing of the knights' halls. Why were its windows so dark? There should be some light inside, faint though the sun was. But the light reflected off the windows, the darkness was inside. Maybe smoke from fires within, leaving a layer of… The feeling built, became stronger.

She fancied that she could even tell the exact window it was coming from, the third along on the second floor. As her eyes settled on that window, the feeling grabbed her by the throat. She stopped breathing. A cold sweat broke out all over her body, and her right hand whipped round to grab her long sword.

But there was nothing. No movement, no shape at the window. Cautiously, she flicked her eyes away, cast a fast glance over the entire courtyard. Nothing anywhere. She started breathing again, though heavily, as she still couldn't shake off this terrible alarm.

Maybe it _was_ nothing, but she couldn't enjoy the sunshine now. She slowly drew on her gloves, and started sidling towards the chapel doorway, keeping her eyes on the window. And froze.

Something had moved behind the glass, something dark. And there was a glow, like the red fire of an eye. She blinked, focussed again, and couldn't see it. Nothing once more.

But she was sure of what she had seen, and she lunged for the doorway. Even in the chapel she didn't feel safe. She spun around, put her back to the stone wall, drew her long sword and stared into every corner of the room, her heart beating wildly.

She didn't feel safe because she _wasn't_ safe, and she couldn't believe how foolish she had been, trusting the protection of these flimsy walls and the uncertain power of holy ground.

It seemed like hours, though it was actually less than half an hour, before she heard the clank of Jareth coming back along the corridor. At least, she hoped it was Jareth. And she had just managed to calm down a bit. She raised her sword as the sounds neared, then exhaled with relief when he stepped into the room. He looked a bit surprised at her drawn sword, but he didn't comment.

'What do you think?' he asked spreading his arms so she could see all his equipment, 'I couldn't find a bag or anything, just this belt pouch.'

He now wore a cloak, as she had instructed, and he had replaced his soft shoes with hard leather boots. There was a belt around his waist, holding the belt pouch. And that had taken him all this time?

'What do you have in the pouch?'

He reached for the pouch and for a moment she thought he was actually going to show her its contents. 'I have the potion, and some money.'

Kiri looked at him, frowning. Then she sighed. It wasn't as good as she would have liked, but it would have to do.

'All right then, let's get moving.' She desperately wanted to get moving, anything but stay here, expecting an attack at any moment.

She stepped out the door, eyes flicking all around, and up, then glanced back over her shoulder to see that Jareth was following her, his mace held at the ready.

The chapel doorway was less than thirty feet from the gateway, but a lot of rubble was strewn in their path. A large chunk of broken masonry lay directly in the way. Kiri lightly vaulted it, but Jareth could not, and he had to trudge a wide path around it.

Kiri stood on a big lump of rock and scanned the courtyard for enemies while she waited for Jareth to rejoin her. The sunlight dimmed and the air abruptly became much cooler. She looked up in annoyance, this was no time for the sun to hide behind a cloud.

But it hadn't. The whole sky had faded behind a grey haze, a rapidly thickening darkness. She stared, trying to make sense of what she saw. It wasn't fog, it wasn't an eclipse...

'Shadows!' Jareth called, and she quickly returned her attention to the ground. Jareth was pointing to the halls as he hurried towards her, and she looked that way.

He was right. Shadowy undead poured out of the knights' halls, flowing up out of the ruins, or down from the second storey windows, taking advantage of the sudden, surely unnatural gloom. In the half light she got her first good look at them.

They might once have been human spirits, but they were now only vaguely humanoid. They moved hunched over, and she could see through their translucent black bodies. Their arms were long, held out in front, ready to rend and tear, while a whippy tail lashed the air behind. Long legs and large clawed feet allowed the monstrous creatures to move fast, even over the rubble - too fast, they were rapidly approaching.

'Run!' she shouted to Jareth, then turned and darted up the rubble heap. The darkness in the sky did not extend over the Tower courtyard, instead turning into wispy streamers like fog burning away in the sunlight. It didn't extend beyond the fortress, either, and Kiri had a sudden suspicion as to where it had come from.

At the top, she found the way blocked by the huge skull of the dracolich. It lay on its side and she had to scrabble part of the way up one wall before she reached a place where she could get over one massive horn.

She stopped there and looked back. Jareth was only halfway up the slope, and he was obviously finding it difficult. He was using his mace as a staff, but he was still slipping on the loose rock. She looked to the shadows. Though they were getting closer, Jareth should be alright if he would hurry.

But then another movement caught her eye. A black shape shot out of the halls, a long weapon held before it. The vampire. She saw what Gedrassis meant when he spoke of the vampire being blindingly fast, it was little more than a blur as it raced across the courtyard. Jareth wouldn't make it.

'Hurry!' she yelled at him, but she couldn't just stand and watch. She leaped back down the slope, grabbed Jareth by the shoulder and almost carried him up the wall.

She didn't stop to look back to see where the vampire was, she knew it was too close. Without hesitation, she leaped off the wall, over the dracolich's horn and down onto the rubble below. She bounced, tried to run down the slope but immediately tripped and rolled. At the bottom, she landed on something squishy and quickly pushed herself up.

It was a corpse she had come to rest on, and there were many more around, the charred bodies of undead. The defences of the Tower courtyard had blasted them. She was protected here.

A sharp cry came from atop the wall. Kiri spun about and looked up.

Jareth stood on the wall, his mace raised before him as he feebly tried to defend himself. The vampire had gotten above him and was smashing lightning fast blows at him, almost too fast to see.

Suddenly Jareth toppled limply backwards off the wall and slammed into the rocky slope, tumbling bonelessly down, his mace rolling from his hand. He came to a stop, still on the rubble, away from the courtyard's protection. Kiri expected the vampire to come down after him, but when she looked up, the black shape had gone from the walls.

She leaped forward and grabbed Jareth's outstretched hand, dragging him onto the pavement of the courtyard, into the sunlight. She rolled him over, expecting to see a lifeless face, but he groaned and struggled to sit up.

Jareth's armour had several deep rents, but it must have saved him from the Soulthorn Glaive. If it had touched him, he would be dead. A large purpling mark on his forehead showed why he had fallen. He must have blocked a blow to the head, only to have his mace forced back into him by the power of the vampire's strike.

Kiri helped him up, and picked up his mace. It too was marred with a number of gouges. She was just handing it back to him when there was another black blur, and the vampire reappeared atop the wall.

The vampire appeared much as Gedrassis had described her, her white face stark against the black of her hair and clothes, though Kiri had thought she would be taller. She wore black chainmail and held the Soulthorn Glaive.

Kiri shivered as she looked at the Glaive. It looked like a black double-headed spear, with long jagged blades at each end. Even at this distance, Kiri could feel the evil of it, and around it shone not light, but a sickly black aura.

The vampire stared down at them for a moment, then spoke. Her voice was cold, thin and sharp, like a razor blade slicing through flesh.

'Run and hide, little maggots,' she cried, and the sound made them shudder, 'We'll dig you out soon enough.' She turned, and was gone.

A few moments later, the darkness above the fortress faded away.

Jareth continued to stare upward for a while, then shook himself and turned to Kiri. 'I don't understand, how could they make the sky go dark?'

Kiri looked at him. 'You know, there is great magic in the fortress walls, power to keep out unpleasant weather.'

Jareth nodded, then an expression of horror spread across his face as he realised what she meant.

'They are corrupting the magic of the fortress.'

Tarkeros had not come here to destroy the Star Fortress.

He had come to make it his own.


	7. Survivors

****

Chapter Nineteen - Survivors

The huge skull, which blocked the way behind them, was the only part of the dracolich still intact. The rest of its bones lay in heaps of white powder, forming the outline of a dragon on the courtyard.

To the left, though, was a sight less pleasing. A long line of blackened bodies, from the wall, stretching to the gates of the Tower. Kiri turned that way and went to investigate, Jareth trailing slowly behind.

The priest was badly shaken by his encounter with the vampire, and so he should be. His survival was more due to luck than skill. Even Kiri, who was confident she could easily best the much slower priest in a fight, would not wish to fight that vampire, especially not when the weapon she faced could kill her with a single touch.

Jareth became even more disturbed as he got a closer look at the charred bodies, and when Kiri crouched to turn one over, exposing the seared face of a twelve year old girl, he turned back, fell to his knees and vomited.

Kiri knew this girl. She was the daughter of one of the knights, and like most of the children, a complete nuisance. Merriline, her name was, and her fussy ways and arrogant demands had plagued every one of the servants.

Not any more. Her mother and little brother lay dead nearby, and the rest of the ladies and their children, many of them burned beyond recognition. A few young men were among them, who Kiri knew were knight-trainees.

They must have been tasked with getting the knights' families out of the halls when the attack came, and they had all been caught in the open. A single blast of dragonfire had killed them all.

The way they had come was clear, a doorway in the far end of the wall. But there were only bedrooms on the other side of that wall, and Kiri had been in them many times and she had never seen a door there.

It must be a secret or concealed door, and that was why the lich had destroyed that wing of the halls, to block that door. So the knights had to fight their way out through the courtyard, and they too had been killed.

Kiri quickly counted up the bodies. Eighty three women, one hundred and fourteen children, and thirty seven trainees. That wasn't all of them. She couldn't remember how many women and children there were in the halls, but she knew there had been fifty trainee knights.

So the rest had been crushed when the hall fell, or - she turned back to the Tower - they were the survivors she had come for.

Jareth had finished being sick. He spat to clear his mouth, and hurried to join her as she walked across the courtyard to the Great Tower. She glanced sideways at him, but he didn't look up. He was too miserable even to look sheepish about throwing up.

The wall lights were already on when Kiri opened the doors to the tower, and they stepped inside, into a small antechamber. As soon as they entered, a feeling of purity, of peace and security, washed over them - the magical protection of the Great Tower.

Jareth relaxed as the power surrounded them. His head came up, his shoulders raised and he let his mace rest on the floor. A small smile appeared on his face and he sighed with relief.

Kiri didn't relax. There _was_ no safety, she knew that now. Walls could be smashed, magic could be corrupted... friends could be killed. She wouldn't let down her guard, even here. Her sword was still in her hand and she looked around warily.

The purity touched her, though. Instantly, she resisted it, as she felt it trying to somehow change her emotions. But it brought a sudden clarity, illuminating her innermost feelings, her hate and anger.

Well, she had good reason for her anger. Marly's death was the most recent pain she had faced, but before that she had suffered years of torment and humiliation.

And yet, hate and anger were such ugly emotions. Kiri had the unexpected and unpleasant feeling that her soul was rather grubby. Hesitantly, she allowed the tower's magic in, and it quickly filled her.

There was no loss, no forgetting. If anything, her memories became sharper. And a pain she hadn't realised she was carrying was abruptly gone, washed away with the soured emotions. Something loosened in her chest, and she found herself breathing and moving more freely.

She didn't forget her caution though. There were doorways to either side of the room, and she quickly looked in both. Guardrooms, both empty, and no sign of recent use.

Jareth looked surprised at her wariness and her raised sword. 'You don't need that here. Can't you feel it? This place is safe.'

Kiri ignored his thoughtless words and cracked open the inner doors. The next room was also well lit, but she couldn't see or hear anything or anyone inside, so she pushed the door wider and slipped inside, immediately putting her back to the wall as she looked around the room.

She was in a great hall, an audience chamber or something similar. It was fifty feet long and thirty wide, and was mostly empty. Pillars lined the walls, with stone benches in the niches between, though a couple of niches looked darker, possibly doorways. At the far end, a dais held the only furniture; a long table and five chairs lined up behind it.

It looked a bit like the judgement chamber in Captain Hannil's guardhouse, where he and other Silverdale authorities assembled to hear civil and criminal charges. Perhaps the knights had once had similar duties. In the early days of the Order, they would have been the only authorities in the Arrel Plains, so it was quite likely that they had been called on to provide judgements on disputes and crimes.

Jareth came in behind her, his armour clanking, and pushed the door shut after him. The door banged and the noise echoed hugely in the large room.

Kiri winced, and turned to glare at him, then stopped, spinning back as she heard a muffled scream from somewhere off to the right.

'Sorry,' Jareth whispered, 'I didn't realise it would make so much noise. But there can't be any enemies in here...'

He didn't seem to have heard the scream. She silenced him with a gesture, then moved out into the hall, staying in the middle where she could see all around and nothing could surprise her.

She saw a door in the middle of the right wall, but kept moving until she saw that there was also a door at the far end, and one behind the dais.

Jareth started to follow her and she grimaced at the amount of noise he made. She turned and held up her hand for him to stop. As she did so, she saw that there were dark doorways in deep alcoves to either side of the entrance. She hadn't been as careful as she thought.

Well, at least nothing had ambushed her. She turned back and looked at the doors, trying to decide which one the scream had come from. The closest one, she decided, the middle one, already slightly open. She started towards it, but even as she did so, it opened a bit further, and a pale frightened face peered out.

The young man jumped when he saw her, gasping and pulling back sharply, knocking the door wide open as he did so. He froze for a moment as he realised he was completely exposed, then swung up his long sword with white-knuckled hands. That seemed to be all he could manage, and he just stood there, shaking in obvious terror.

Kiri lowered her sword slightly. He was clearly not one of the undead, and he didn't look like much of a threat - although it could be a trick. She flicked her eyes around the room. Jareth was still standing near the entrance, and nothing else had entered the hall. She looked back to the young man where he still stood, staring at her.

'You... you're not one of the undead, are you?' he managed to ask, though his voice wobbled. Kiri ignored the foolish question.

'Who are you?' she demanded.

'Oh, I'm um... I'm Daven. I'm a trainee knight.'

Kiri snorted. Surely the knights could have found someone better than this for their training programme - like her, for example. This boy looked fairly nondescript, shorter than her, though with broad shoulders, and with a mop of black hair. He would have to be eighteen to be a trainee, and Kiri had to remind herself that she was two years younger. He looked so _young_.

'How many others are there here?' she asked.

'Oh, there's...' Daven turned to look behind him, down a corridor lined with doors, and Kiri barely restrained the urge to yell at him for turning his back on a potential enemy. Instead, she silently moved closer to him, stopping just out of sword range.

'There's my brother, Bevan,' Daven continued, still looking backwards. 'Jordan, he's another knight, and two of the ladies. And they've got two children,' he finished, finally turning to face her again.

'Aaahhh!' he cried as he saw how close she was, and he leaped back five feet, swinging his sword up and staring at her with wide eyes as he trembled.

'Don't turn your back on an enemy.' Her voice was cold, and he could only gape at her.

Jareth was coming to join her, rattling with every step, so she took a pace back to let the boy regain his composure. Once the priest stood beside her, looking curiously at the trainee, she spoke again.

'Tell the others to come out into the corridor.' She wasn't going to walk into an ambush.

'They can't,' he quavered, 'Bevan and Jordan are injured, badly, they can't walk. That's why we're still here, why we didn't try to leave with the others... why we're still alive,' he finished with a shudder.

And now he had given away the fact that he was the only able-bodied fighter in his group. If she really had been an enemy, he would be just asking to be slaughtered.

She glanced at Jareth. 'Stay here,' she told him, then to Daven, 'Lead the way.'

'Oh, right,' the boy said, 'They're down the end.' But Kiri made no move to follow him as he walked to the end of the corridor and opened the last door.

'It's all right,' he said to someone inside, 'They're friends.' Was he really foolish enough to believe that, when he knew nothing about them, or was it more trickery?

Kiri sheathed her sword. Caution was all well and good, but she didn't want to slip into outright paranoia. It was highly unlikely that Daven was an enemy. But she still checked each room as she passed it.

The rooms were unoccupied, large and comfortably furnished lounges and bedrooms. Probably guestrooms, for visitors to the fortress. She saw no sign of any enemies, and Daven still waited for her at the end.

She gestured for him to go in first. He started to do so, but his sword banged against the wall as he moved, reminding him that it was still in his hand, and he sheathed it before entering the room.

As soon as he had cleared the doorway, she stepped forward, alert and ready. And saw that the boy had been telling the truth all along.

There were two beds, both occupied by bandaged men. The closest man had bandages on both legs and his left arm splinted and supported in a sling. A young blonde woman sat beside him, wearing a blue silk dressing gown, a baby in her lap. The man looked up and glared at Kiri, though she couldn't tell whether it was anger or suspicion, or just pain, that made him look at her like that.

The second man was bandaged around his chest, neck and arms. He looked to be hurt more seriously than the other, and he didn't open his eyes.

On the far side there was a door to an inner room, and another woman appeared in the doorway, a pretty brunette dressed similarly to the first. A child, a girl about three years old, clutched at her skirts and peered round anxiously.

'Elf bitch!' the first man burst out. 'Filthy Elf scum! What are you doing here? Have you come to gloat? Was it you who brought the lich down on us?' Someone else who thought she was an Elf, but not as accepting as Jareth had been.

'Bevan, don't!' Daven protested, 'She's come to help.'

'Shut up, Daven!' his brother snapped, 'You don't know... Elves have been trying to get into the Order for years, they want the fortress for themselves... and now _she_ turns up. You call that coincidence? I don't think so!'

The venom in his voice was sharp, and she wondered what reason he had to hate Elves. But she was unmoved by his virulence, and merely looked at him calmly.

Daven looked at her, uncertain. It seemed his brother's words had finally alerted him to the possibility that she could be an enemy. The two women also looked alarmed, and the baby began a weak wailing cry.

The shouting had woken the other knight. He raised his head and looked around. His face was pale, clearly showing the spread of infection up his jaw, and his eyes were glazed. They wandered randomly around the room for a moment, before he focussed on her.

'Hey, it's an Elf.' He smiled crookedly. 'Hello, gorgeous.' The words were slurred. He was obviously delirious.

Kiri turned back to the corridor, to where Jareth still stood, shifting impatiently. He saw her look and started towards her, not waiting to hear her call, 'Jareth, These men need healing.'

She stepped aside to let him enter the room, and paused to scan the corridor. She wasn't going to let down her guard, even now, but she didn't feel at all tense. The tower seemed to be giving her strength.

'You, you're from the chapels, aren't you?' Bevan demanded as Jareth bent over him.

'That's right, I'm Disciple Jareth,' the priest replied absently as he inspected the knight's wounds.

He placed his hands on each of Bevan's injured limbs in turn, chanting softly over each. A faint blue light shone around both men, then faded again, and Jareth turned to the young woman.

'You can take his bandages off now,' he smiled at her, and both man and woman gaped after him as he moved to the second man.

Jareth shook his head, obviously recognising this man. 'Oh, Jordan, you are a mess.' But the knight just gazed back, grinning vacantly.

Kiri wondered if Jareth would be able to do anything here. Jordan's infection looked all too much like that of the man who had died in the temple of Monasheth, and even Reverend Torreyns hadn't been able to heal him.

But Jareth just placed his hands on either side of Jordan's face, closed his eyes, and began chanting again. He took quite a bit longer than he had for Bevan, but first the infection marks disappeared, then the colour came back to Jordan's skin.

Jordan shook himself, as if waking from a daydream, and looked up.

'Jareth? You... healed me?' He looked down at his chest in disbelief.

Kiri was equally astounded. Jareth, a disciple, had done in a moment what Reverend Torreyns, head of the temple of Monasheth, had been unable to do.

Oh, of course. She was comparing two completely different things. Rank was determined by the temple hierarchy, and probably involved politics. Healing ability, though, was determined by the deity the priest served, and reflected the priest's faith and dedication. Although Jareth had the lesser title, and was half Reverend Torreyns' age, he was clearly the better priest.

Kiri looked at him with new respect, and the others in the room were obviously impressed by his ability as well.

'Thank you... Did you say _disciple_?' Bevan was sitting up, but had stopped unwinding his bandages to stare at the priest. Jareth just smiled and nodded.

But Bevan quickly got over his astonishment and gratitude, and remembered his rancour.

'Then what are you doing with _her_?' he demanded, glaring at Kiri once more.

'This is Salkirimarillias,' Jareth introduced her. 'She heard that there were survivors here, and she has come to do what she can to help.'

The knights and the two women all turned to stare at her, their mouths hanging open.

'You,' Jordan began, 'You fought your way _into_ the fortress?' He sounded utterly dumbfounded.

Kiri nodded. 'Yes, though Jareth had to come out and help me, when I was surrounded by a group of undead.' That wasn't exactly the way it had happened, but they didn't need to know the rest.

'Well, I didn't actually go out,' Jareth corrected her modestly, 'I stayed in the chapel doorway and just called on Orpyren's power to turn the undead. That was all the help she needed.'

The others just gaped at the two of them. That was rather pointless. Kiri decided to move things on a bit.

'And now that we're here,' she said, casting a look over them all, men, women and children, 'we need to start thinking about how we're going to get you all out.'

* * *

****

Chapter Twenty - Stock-take

'There were five knights, three trainees, four ladies and a bunch of children.'

They were sitting around a low table in the adjoining lounge, and Daven was telling them about the group that had tried to break out.

'It was daylight, even if it was overcast, and they were sure they would get out. I was sure, too, and I'd have gone with them, except that Bevan couldn't walk.'

Bevan glowered at them from the other side of the room. He was staying as far from Kiri as he could, his distrust of her plainly visible on his face. The two ladies sat near him, holding the children. They had introduced themselves, but she had forgotten their names almost as soon as they had spoken. They weren't important anyway.

'I couldn't see what happened after they got past that dragon skull out there, but I heard their screams, just the other side. They didn't even get across the first courtyard.' Daven shook his head.

Tears showed in his eyes. Presumably he had known those who had died, perhaps they were even friends of his.

'Jareth,' Jordan asked, 'Do you think you could do that _turning the undead_ while you walked across the courtyard?' But the priest shook his head.

'If I could do that, I would have gotten out days ago. Doing it while walking would be easy enough, but there's no way I could hold it while I was climbing over the ruins of the gatehouses.'

'Could we climb over the wall into the valley?' Daven asked hopefully.

'And then what?' Jordan asked. 'The valleys are filled with deep snow, and they don't lead anywhere. To get anywhere, you'd have to climb back up to the road, and that would be practically impossible.'

'Oh.' Daven's face fell.

'Well, we know getting out of here isn't going to be easy,' Kiri told them. 'We just need to think it through a bit more.' She thought for a moment.

'Maybe we're getting a bit ahead of ourselves. What kind of equipment is in the tower? How much food do we have?'

'Oh, there's plenty of food,' Daven said. 'The kitchen is over there,' and pointed in the direction of the hall, 'but you have to go upstairs to get to it. The larder, well, it's not exactly stuffed, but there's enough food to last the few of us for months.'

Kiri nodded. This was the strongest point in the fortress, so of course the knights would have prepared it for times of emergency.

'And it's still fresh!' Daven continued. 'It must have been there for years, decades even, but it's still as fresh as the day it came in.'

Kiri looked at him, perplexed. 'Do you mean, the tower _isn't_ kept stocked?'

'Well, no,' Jordan told her, 'We don't use it much any more. After there became too many knights to live here, just about everything was moved to the halls. It's only really used on ceremonial occasions now.'

Kiri closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The strongest, most powerful and magical bastion the Order possessed, and they left it empty. Probably because the air of purity made the knights uncomfortable. It certainly should, anyway!

She wondered why the magic of the Tower didn't affect the knights the way it did her. Maybe they resisted its power, or maybe they were too far gone in their folly for it to reach them.

Bevan certainly seemed that way. He looked like an older, heavier version of Daven, but his face was set in a perpetual sullen scowl, quite different from his younger brother's eager helpfulness.

But Jordan seemed to be a decent man. Now that he wasn't swathed in bandages or disfigured by illness, she could see that he was a handsome man in his early twenties, with light brown hair, green eyes and a quick smile.

She turned to him. 'The armouries? The storerooms?'

He gave her a weak grin. 'There are a _few_ things left. We might be able to find something to help us. Shall we go and look?'

As they all stood up, Bevan snapped. 'This is a waste of time! The chapters from Venkenka and Mear will be here in a couple of days. They'll kill the undead and we can just walk out.'

Kiri looked at him. 'I hope that's true, but we can't rely on it. The last attempt to attack the fortress failed, so we should see what we can do for ourselves.' He just scowled at her. She turned back to the others and gestured for Jordan to go first.

Bevan looked for a moment as if he was going to follow, no doubt wanting to ensure that she didn't get up to any Elvish dastardliness. But, to her relief, he stayed behind with the ladies.

Jordan led the way out to the hall, into one of the doorways beside the entrance and up a narrow staircase.

'I think Bevan was being a bit optimistic,' Jordan said as he climbed. 'In summer, the other chapters might have been able to get here in a couple of days. But it's the middle of winter. I think we should count on it being four days from now, at least four days, before any help comes.'

'And if we can find some more weapons, we can help them!' Daven put in enthusiastically. 'When the knights attack from the front, we can attack from the back!'

Kiri almost smiled at his puppy eagerness. She knew it wouldn't be that simple. In fact, they would be lucky to get out alive. If the lich managed to pervert the protections on the Tower and courtyard, they might all be dead within days.

The stairs continued upwards for the entire height of the tower, but Jordan stopped at the first landing.

'This was the briefing room,' he said as he pushed the door open. 'The armouries are on the right.'

They all filed into a large room. Four rows of tables were lined up, filling most of the space. Chairs sat beside them, facing the left, where a raised platform held a podium. Two huge maps hung on the wall behind it, to either side of a large chalkboard. Kiri walked over to the maps, stepping up on the platform for a closer look, and the others trailed after her.

The map on the left showed the whole of the Arrel Plains, from the sea in the west, beyond the coastal Merishahn Mountains, out to the eastern arm of the Merishahns on the Tiochan border. At the top was the northern forest, and the Marquan Hills were at the bottom.

Kiri frowned thoughtfully. The town of Teris was shown as a village, and Nestor and Hekk didn't appear on the map at all. Either this map had been made in the hundred years since those villages had been abandoned, or...

'Jordan,' she asked without turning around, 'how long has it been since these rooms were used?'

'Oh, centuries,' he said, just behind her, 'It must be four, five hundred years now.'

She turned to look at him in surprise, then looked back at the map. It had been painted on thick canvas, and the colours were still clear and bright, showing no signs of flaking or mouldering. After all these years... But then she remembered Daven's comment about the food, how it was still fresh. The Tower's magic must prevent decay, yet another one of its powers.

The other map showed all of the northlands - the Arrel Plains, Tiochan, Brysse and Veyaroshi. In the north were the cold wild lands, and in the south were the Todrill Mountains that formed Veyaroshi's southern boundary, even showing a part of the Iskeni lands. In the west the map stretched beyond the Cassermar Peninsula, out to the island nation of PaiCaan, where the false Emperor ruled, where all women were slaves and non-humans were burned alive.

To the east the map reached the Amsilar Forest, last refuge of the Elves beyond Tiochan. She hadn't realised that the Amsilar Forest was the same forest as that in the north of the Arrel Plains, stretching that great distance. East of Veyaroshi the map showed part of the vast mountainous plateau that the Dwarves called Helmad Dekterrir, Roots of the World, where their ancient homeland lay hidden.

Kiri gazed at the map, fascinated by the many exotic lands it showed her. And she had never been further than Venkenka, on a couple of trips with her father. So many wondrous places to visit, so many things to see.

But it was clearly out of date. There were new towns and cities which the map didn't show, and some of those it did show were now ruins. Like Ticassermar, capital of Veyaroshi's Cassermar province. That city was ruined over a hundred years ago, and was reputed to be still haunted.

Oh. Ruined in Tarkeros' rebellion. Kiri remembered what she was supposed to be doing.

She turned and looked around the room. There were three other doors in the room, one just beside her, another to her left and the third opposite her. That was where Jordan had said the armouries were. She jumped down off the platform and strode briskly across the room.

The room she entered was dark, and she had to fumble around until she found the wall light. The armoury was a huge room, almost as big as the audience hall below, and it was lined with cabinets and shelves, the middle filled with rows of tables, bins, armour stands and boxes. It took a moment before she realised that they were all empty.

Everything would have been moved to the armouries in the halls, but she had hoped there might be a few pieces left. She walked down the rows of shelves, flipping open the lights as she went, but the only thing she found was a huge suit of plate armour. It was decorated in green enamel over the silver metal, the colours of the Order, but it was of no use to her.

Whoever had worn it must have been over seven feet tall, and three feet wide. A huge two-handed sword, as long as the armour was tall, was clipped to the wall beside it. Both armour and sword showed the light of enchantment, but no one in her group was tall enough to use them. No wonder they had been left here when everything else had been moved out.

She frowned around at the barren room. What was the use of an armoury if it was left empty? She walked back to the door where Jordan, Daven and Jareth were standing. As she approached, Jordan spoke.

'This was the Common Armoury. There are two more armouries, through there,' pointing to two doors at the far end, 'the Trophy Armoury and the Cursed Armoury, but I don't...'

'The what?' Jareth interrupted, 'Cursed?'

'Yes,' Jordan explained. 'Over the years, the Order has collected quite a few magical weapons. Some of those go into the Common Armoury, but a lot aren't suitable for general use. Some are unusual, or really bizarre, and they go in the Trophy Armoury, where we can see some of the stranger weapons that we might face.'

'Others, though, are cursed, evilly enchanted or otherwise dangerous, and those are placed in the Cursed Armoury so they can't do any harm. Those ones won't have been sold, but I think the Trophy Armoury is empty.'

She gave him a sharp look and hurried to the doors he had indicated. The first room she entered was a smaller armoury, filled with metal-grilled cabinets, and a quick look around soon proved that it was indeed empty.

'Yes, I thought they had been sold,' Jordan said, 'They weren't doing us any good here. Better that we get coin for them.'

Kiri shook her head. What a short-sighted attitude. Selling off the strange and exotic, just because it had no immediate use. And presumably the Cursed Armoury held nothing of any use, either.

The Cursed Armoury was the same as the Trophy Armoury, but all of its cabinets were full. Kiri walked past the cabinets, peering at their contents as she went past. Swords, maces, lances, chainmail, every type of weapon or armour, all of them glowing with magic, weak or strong, in many different shades of enchantment.

Parchment cards at the base of each cabinet explained what each piece was and why it had been locked away. Kiri read a few of them. A jewelled battle-axe:_ "Cursed, Berserking. Anyone who wields this axe will become a berserker, mindlessly attacking everyone in sight."_

A black bastard sword: _"Demonsword. Wrested from the hand of the demon Irash-Teth, slain by Commander Oweth, 612 AF"_ Kiri raised an eyebrow at that. Demons? The Order must have once been very powerful to stand against demons. Why weren't there stories about these exploits? They should be legend.

As she passed one cabinet, she suddenly jerked back, her skin crawling. The barbed long sword behind the grille shone with an unpleasant blue light, and just looking at it made her feel as if an army of spiders was marching down her back. She didn't read its card, she didn't want to get that close to it. Whatever power it held, she was glad it was locked behind steel.

At the far end of the room she found something that didn't seem to belong, an elegant suit of chainmail in green and silver. The card at the base was uninformative.

'What's this armour?' she asked the others, who were wandering along behind her, 'The card just says _Elvish_.'

'Well, it's Elvish,' Daven replied, 'No one will wear something Elves have made, you can't trust...' Jordan's sharp elbow in the ribs silenced him, but he looked around, confused, until he saw Kiri glaring at him.

'I am Elven,' she told him with icy clarity. Flustered, Daven turned bright red and babbled an attempted apology, but she ignored him and turned to the cabinet again. She grasped the grille and pulled, but the lock held firm and the steel wouldn't bend. She turned back to Jordan.

'Where are the keys for these cabinets?' she asked.

'I guess the Commander would have them, and maybe the Lord Marshal.' He shrugged, 'And they would be somewhere under the pile of corpses out there.'

Kiri's eyes narrowed. 'The Commander's body is still out there? What about the Panoply?'

Jordan shook his head sadly. 'Broken. The lich hit him with this magic blast from his sword. It shattered the axe and smashed a huge hole in the armour. Commander Vayrlan was killed instantly.'

Kiri scowled, frustrated. If they had been able to recover the armour and the axe, they might have been able to fight the undead. The situation was looking more difficult all the time.

'But there's another piece of the Panoply right here,' Jordan continued brightly. Kiri looked up, surprised, but he was already walking to the far side of the armoury. She quickly followed him and looked into the cabinet he stopped beside.

It held a mace, two feet long with a large ridged head. Its handle was wrapped with green leather and silver wire, and a white star sapphire capped the shaft. More importantly, though, the air around it prickled with immense power. It was obviously part of the Panoply, but why was it in the Cursed Armoury?

'Do you see how the stand holds it so the head doesn't touch anything?' Jordan asked her. She nodded, still confused.

'Watch this,' he said. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and ripped a thin strip off it. Rolling the strip of cloth into a rough ball, he poked it through the steel grille, then quickly pulled his hand back.

The cloth ball dropped from the grille onto the mace's head. Instantly there was a brilliant burst of light, dazzling multi-coloured sparks and the powerful smell of burnt cloth. Kiri blinked, but by the time she had cleared her eyes of the sparkling after-images, the cloth was just a drift of ash in the bottom of the cabinet.

'It's unstable,' Jordan explained. 'It destroys anything it touches. One Commander lost a leg and was almost killed when he went to strap it on, so it's been in here ever since.'

But Kiri was looking at the thick layer of ash in the bottom of the cabinet. She wasn't the first person to be treated to a display of the mace's instability, and that disturbed her.

Instead of trying to fix this powerful weapon, the knights had used it as cheap entertainment.

Her opinion of the Order was worsening every minute.

* * *

****

Chapter Twenty One - Library

Kiri stood surveying the Common Armoury. It didn't look very hopeful, but it was all they had to work with. She turned to the others and started giving orders.

'Daven and Jareth. I want you to search everything in all of the armouries. Look in every cabinet, every box. Something may have been overlooked. Make a list of everything you find, including what's in there,' tilting her head towards the Cursed Armoury. 'We may be able to find a use for some of that stuff.'

'Jordan, come with me. I want to see what else there is in this tower.' She strode back to the briefing room. 'Where do these other doors go?'

'That one's the library and that's the dining room...' He stopped talking and hurried after Kiri, who was already walking away. When she heard the word _library_, her feet had immediately headed for that door.

She stopped and stared about her in awe. The library was _huge_. It was easily as big as the three armouries put together, and it was full of tall shelves reaching up to the ceiling ten feet above. Reading tables were scattered about, and a number of lecterns held chained books. Lights on the ceiling made the library as bright as day, and smaller reading lights sat on the tables.

The shelves still held books, nearly one-third full. Of course. There was no way all of these books could be moved to the halls, the library in the knights' halls wasn't even a quarter, a _fifth_, of the size of this one.

Kiri frowned. Something about that seemed peculiar. _Two-thirds_ of the books were gone, but the library in the halls could only hold _one-fifth_ of them. So what had happened to the rest of the books?

She looked around and quickly spotted boxes full of books sitting on the floor. A reading table held a stack of books, beside a half-full box. The books were being put into storage? Why would anyone do that? Surely they were perfectly safe here?

What kind of books were they, anyway? The nearest book was a huge black leather-bound tome chained to a lectern just in front of the door. There was no inscription on the cover, so Kiri flipped it open to the title page. The pages moved freely, with none of the crackling that old books develop. There was no smell of mustiness, either, so Kiri was astonished to see that the writing was in Imperial Iskeni.

Imperial was extinct, it had died even before the Iskeni Empire itself had fallen, nearly thirteen centuries ago. But Vulgar Iskeni had become the common language of both the Iskeni lands and the northlands, and, although the language had changed over the centuries, Kiri could just figure out the title.

__

Sai Tanaki Ruensipia. That meant - The something... Methods? Principles? And ruensi meant something to do with war, so ruensipia.... Kiri gasped. The Principles of Warfare. In stunned amazement, her eyes tracked down the page to the author's name and she traced it with one finger. _Sai Karthenos Haiperron_. General Haiperron.

She had heard of this book. It was briefly mentioned in an ancient saga, which described it as the greatest treatise on warfare ever written, by the greatest general who ever lived, collecting all the strategies that had made the Empire great. But she had thought it was just a rumour out of antiquity, one more long lost piece of lore. She had never thought that she might one day hold a copy in her hands.

No wonder it was in such a prominent place in the knight's library. For the warriors of the Order, this book was a prize beyond compare. This one volume was priceless, and Kiri looked around at the shelves, wondering what other treasures she might find here.

Jordan had followed her into the library, and he stood at the reading table, roughly shuffling through the pile of books there.

'It's just the old books left in here,' he said, flicking open one book then tossing it aside. 'Everything of value has been moved to the halls.' Kiri's mouth dropped open and she stared at him in disbelief. He didn't notice her shock, he was still looking down at the books before him.

'I mean, look at this thing.' He held up a small blue covered book. 'I don't even know what language this is.'

Kiri shook off her stupefaction long enough to shuffle over to him and take the book from his hand. And stared blankly at the cover. Not only did she not know the language, she didn't even recognise the script!

But that was impossible. There _were_ only four languages: Imperial Iskeni, Modern Iskeni, Elvish and Dwarvish. Oh, and Merlai, the Elvish/Iskeni patois that was common in Tiochan. So where could this book have come from? Were there lands beyond the Empire? She had never heard of any. Surely it couldn't be from _before_ the Empire?

'But at least we can get a bit of money from them,' Jordan continued. 'Whenever the Treasury is getting a bit low, we just bundle up a few boxes of these and sell them off.' Kiri's head whipped around so fast she was in danger of breaking her neck.

Jordan laughed. 'Can you believe there are people willing to pay hundreds for this old rubbish?' He finally looked up and saw her staring at him. 'What?' he asked blankly.

Kiri couldn't speak. She just turned away and wearily leaned her head against a bookshelf, trying to regain her composure. She was no longer angry with the knights. She had gone beyond anger, all she felt was a deep sorrow. How could anyone be so _foolish_?

She breathed deeply, inhaling the smell of the books around her. She had to make Jordan understand, but a quick glance down at the book in her hand told her that was not the answer. The little blue book's value was too abstract, but surely a knight could appreciate the writings of General Haiperron?

She straightened up and turned to where Jordan was still looking at her in bewilderment.

'You don't really think these books are worth keeping, do you?' he asked, but she just grabbed him by the sleeve and guided him over to the lectern.

'Look at this book,' she demanded, 'Tell me what you think it's worth.' Jordan looked at her dubiously, then turned his attention to the book, casually flipping pages.

'Well, it's quite a big one,' he opined, and Kiri closed her eyes, pained. _A big one_. 'But it's written in some dialect, probably Merlai. That's all I can tell.' He shrugged. 'I'd guess maybe five hundred kurushi?'

He looked up at her, but she was looking at him in sudden suspicion. True, Imperial died centuries ago, but the nobles still used some formal and legal phrases from it, and many had family mottos in Imperial. Of course, no one but a scholar could read Imperial, but a well born knight should at least recognise it without any trouble.

'Where are you from, Jordan?'

Jordan flushed slightly and replied a bit too quickly.

'I am the fifth son of the House of Troherrin, in southern Veyaroshi.' He met her gaze firmly, but a tension about his eyes betrayed him. She shook her head slowly, and he stiffened.

'And now, really, where are you from?'

He drew himself up to his full height, but he couldn't meet her eye. He seemed about to angrily deny her suspicions, but then suddenly deflated, darting a look over his shoulder as if fearful of eavesdroppers.

'I'm from Sirrackin.' That was a city in south-eastern Brysse - and that was about all Kiri knew of it. 'I was... I was just an alley brat.' He raised his head cautiously, as if expecting anger, scorn or disgust. But Kiri's eyes held only a mild interest.

'So how did you become a knight, then?' she asked.

'Well, I lied.' He shrugged with a sheepish grin. 'I got into trouble with some nobles, so I had to leave Sirrackin in a hurry. I wound up in Marquan, no money, no family, no real skills. I thought I would have to turn to banditry to survive, but I didn't fancy being hunted by the knights.'

'Then I thought, why not become one of the hunters? I had learned enough about the nobility that I wouldn't be too obvious, and I just chose an origin far away.' He shrugged again. 'No one even really questioned me. Few of the knights know much beyond Tabrysse.'

'And do you like being a knight?'

'Oh, sure. Riding out to hunt brigands or monsters every so often, being cheered by the villagers as we ride through, it's wonderful. And then there's the banquets, the clothes, the _rooms_. The only way I could have gotten to see this kind of life is by breaking into some noble's villa.'

Kiri felt a prickle of irritation at his blithe acceptance of luxury as the proper way for knights to live.

'And did you ever stop to think just what all of this cost?' Her low tone alerted him to her displeasure, and he looked at her in alarm - but with no trace of understanding.

'I'm talking about the tenants who pay unfair rents on the properties the Order owns - so you can dress in silks. About the common people who suffer from attacks by monsters and brigands because you think combat is just a pastime, to be indulged when you're in the mood.' She glared at him. The tower may have taken her anger, but she still had a lot of unresolved frustrations. And now, she had a target.

'And the men-at-arms, warriors no different from you, loyal members of the Order. They suffer and die, because you knights won't spend the coin to equip them with decent arms. No, you'd rather have the banquets, the clothes, the rooms.'

'What do you mean? They have excellent weapons and armour,' Jordan replied.

'Unless they're facing magical creatures, like undead,' Kiri informed him harshly. 'Then their _excellent_ but non-magical weapons are utterly useless. And they die.'

'Oh,' was all Jordan could say.

'They die. Your fortress falls. And all your pretty luxuries are exposed as the useless fripperies they really are. But you still don't get the point!'

'Uh, I do now,' he said, much chastened. But Kiri wasn't finished.

'And this book.' She flipped to the title page. 'Sai Tanaki Ruensipia. The Principles of Warfare. By General Haiperron. Have you heard of him?' He shook his head, but she was already continuing.

'No, of course you haven't. It's only the greatest book on warfare ever written. It's clear that the knights have more important things to deal with. Like _banquets_. And _clothes_.'

'Five hundred kurushi, you say. Five hundred _thousand_ wouldn't even come _close_ to the true value of this book. And this is the sort of thing you are selling off, just so you can sleep in satin sheets.'

Jordan gaped at her, mouthing the words, _five hundred thousand_. Unfortunately, he seemed more impressed by the money than by a book. He was dazed and speechless for a long moment, but then he rallied.

'But nobody can read these books. What's the use of books that nobody can read?'

'_You_ can't read them. There are scholars who could translate them for you. Or you could learn it for yourself. Even this could be translated,' holding up the blue book, still clutched in her hand. 'There are mages with spells that...'

She stopped abruptly. Jordan had gone rigid and was glaring at her. What had she said to give such offence? Oh. Mages.

'That's right, I forgot. You knights don't like mages. Or Elves, apparently. Or women, either. I'm surprised you can bring yourself to speak to me,' she said with deep scorn.

'What are you talking about? We don't have anything against women. Most of us are married, you know.' He looked genuinely surprised.

'Oh, sure. Married. To pretty young things who will bear babies for you. But no women with power. Women aren't allowed to become knights. Not even men-at-arms any more. And you've even forbidden the temples to send women priests to serve at your chapels. That doesn't sound as if you have nothing against women.'

Jordan was gaping again, looking stunned. 'I... I didn't realise... I've only been a knight for a couple of years, I'm still very junior. I didn't understand what was going on.'

Kiri snorted at his weak excuse. 'And do you understand about Elves and mages?'

'Oh, that...' Jordan shook himself and focussed on her. 'That actually has a good historical reason. It happened five hundred years ago, in the year six hundred and twenty After Founding. That was the year Commander Oweth died.'

Kiri nodded. She remembered the Commander's name from the Cursed Armoury.

'Oweth was considered to be a good Commander. It wasn't until he died that anyone realised what he had been up to. You see, he was a half-Elf, and during his term as Commander, every position of authority in the Order had been given to an Elf or half-Elf. They were trying to take over, and no one had noticed until it was almost too late.'

'Well, when people realised what was going on, they quickly got together and decided that Elves wouldn't be allowed to hold office. The Elves got angry about that and attacked the knights. There was a lot of bloodshed, but eventually the Elves were expelled from the Order.'

'There were a number of mages in the Order in those days, but many of them sided with the Elves, so they were expelled as well. Ever since then, we have been constantly on the alert for any attempts by Elves or mages to sneak back in.'

Kiri tilted her head, considering him. 'Has it occurred to you that the Elves might well have a different view of it? How long is it since the founding?'

Jordan looked confused, but answered quickly enough. 'This is year eleven... thirty...' He paused a moment to count on his fingers. 'One thousand one hundred and thirty seven years since the founding.'

'Right. And how long do Elves live?'

'You would know that better than I would.' Actually, she wouldn't, but she could guess.

'Over a thousand years. So, if an Elf takes up a position in the Order, they could easily still hold that position hundreds of years later. Those Elves who had _taken over_ the positions of authority could well have been there since the founding. Have you thought of that?'

It seemed to be Jordan's day for gaping.


	8. Siege

Chapter Twenty Two - Siege

Through the dining hall, down another steep spiral staircase, Jordan led Kiri into the kitchen. It was an impressively large room, with even more impressive magical stoves and ovens.

The larder, however, was not what she had been expecting. It was in fact only a pantry, and had apparently been used to store snacks for those knights working to strip the Tower of valuables. The food stored there was indeed fresh, but Daven had overestimated it.

It would only last about three weeks, even if they were careful. Of course, that should be more than enough. If they hadn't managed to escape from the Tower by then, they would almost certainly be already dead.

The staircase continued down even further, underground, to the actual larder - empty. A wine cellar adjoining it was also bare. But a door to one side led into a vast storeroom.

It was, of course, mostly empty - a huge room, dark and echoing, only a few oddments left lying in its corners, hidden behind pillars. Kiri took just a quick, disappointed glance before returning to the staircase.

The next level down, the stairs vanished underwater. The staircase ended in an enormous cistern, and Kiri stood for a moment, looking out over the glittering water, the vaulted ceiling gleaming wetly above her. Obviously, there was plenty of water, so they wouldn't die of thirst. She crouched and scooped up a handful to drink. It was cold and sweet.

She returned to the storeroom to find Jordan poking desultorily around a pile of boxes. He seemed to be deep in thought, and hadn't spoken since they had left the library.

Kiri was pleased to see that he wasn't stupid or thoughtless. She had thought when she first spoke to him that he was intelligent and sensible, and the way he was pondering their earlier discussion showed that she had been right about him.

True, he had been foolish, simply accepting the things that the knights had told him, but she was confident now that he was just under-educated, and perhaps somewhat rash.

Actually, considering the way he had bluffed his way into the Order, rash was probably an understatement. It had been an extremely daring thing to do, but presumably he had been desperate. She looked at him, curious as to what his life had been like.

An alley brat, he had called himself. Kiri didn't really understand what that meant, but she got the general idea - a childhood living in alleyways. It must have been horrible. No wonder he had been so eager to embrace the lifestyle of the knights.

A clank drew her attention to what he was doing. An iron grappling hook had dropped out of the heap of rope he was examining. Rope. That reminded her of Daven's idea of climbing over the wall into the valley. Her eyes unfocussed as she considered the possibilities, trying to come up with a viable plan.

But she couldn't. Jordan had been right, the valleys simply didn't lead anywhere. But what about Jordan's idea of walking out under the protection of Jareth's light, that _turning the undead_ that he did? If he couldn't do it while climbing over the rubble, perhaps he could protect them while the rest of them smoothed a path through the debris. She would have to ask him how long he could maintain it for.

They would need tools though, or it would take too long. Kiri started poking around in the corners, looking to see if there was anything useable left there.

The storeroom turned out to contain more than she had thought, and was bigger than she had realised. Much bigger. The series of pillars stretched into the darkness, piles of boxes and assorted equipment sitting in the shadows.

She soon found something useful - picks, crowbars and shovels stacked haphazardly in an alcove, just what they needed. She looked at them, uncertain for a moment. There was no point taking them just now. They'd have to work out what was needed, come up with a plan - if it was feasible at all.

She peered into the gloom of the deeper recesses of the room, and started to open her satchel to get out the magical lantern. Then she hesitated. There was a lot of stuff to work through, and everything in the storeroom would have to be sorted and examined. Better to do it properly, with all of them working together.

'Did you find anything useful?' Jordan asked as she walked back to where he was still fossicking around. She explained the idea she had, and the digging tools she had found.

'Hmm. I guess that could work, we'll have to ask Jareth.' He looked at her curiously. 'He's a lot more powerful than I realised, but... Do you think he has enough power to hold off the vampire and the lich?'

'Oh, damn. I hadn't thought about that. No, he doesn't. Even some of the lesser undead we fought yesterday managed to resist his power. I don't suppose he'd be able to stop the strongest monsters.' Another thought occurred to her.

'But it's still important that we clear the gate into the Tower courtyard. With the Tower's protections, the undead can't get in, but the rubble blocks the way out for us. Or for any rescuers trying to get in.' She looked around, thinking what they would need, first to get that dragon skull out of the way, then to shift the broken rock.

'You grab some of those ropes, I'll get some shovels.'

Jareth looked up from a pile of boxes as they entered the armoury. 'Kiri! Come and take a look, we've found some bows.'

Kiri leaned her shovels against the wall, and, stepping carefully past the scattered cartons, moved to look over Jareth's shoulder. Smiling happily, Daven pulled a long bow from the box and held it up for her to see.

'Look at this! Isn't it a beauty? And Jareth reckons it's magical!' She took the bow from him and immediately knew it was true - there was a soft glow about the wood, and a tingle ran through her fingers as she touched the grip. _Strong_ magic.

Which wasn't too surprising, as it was clearly of Elven make. The wooden bowstaff was slender and beautifully polished, and fine silver carvings ornamented the tips and the grip. A line of Elven runes ran down the face of the bow. Although she couldn't read Elvish, Kiri recognised the symbols for _strong_ and _quick_.

She pushed it against the floor to test the strength of it, and was alarmed as it sagged. But when she released it, it sprang back, fast and hard. Not weakness, then, but magic to make it easier to use.

'Are there bowstrings? Quivers? How many bows do you have?' If they could pick off the undead from afar... but Jareth quickly dashed her hopes.

'There are only the two bows, and two quivers, each with forty arrows. I'd guess these were simply overlooked during the move, there's nothing else here.' He waved a hand at the mess of boxes. 'We've looked through everything, and this the only box with anything in it.'

Actually, the fact that they were Elven was probably a more likely explanation for why they had been left behind.

'Oh, well, it's better than nothing,' Jordan commented.

'Is it?' she asked, 'Do any of you know how to use a bow?' They looked at each other uncomfortably.

'Well... a little,' Daven said hesitantly.

'Um, no,' Jordan told her, 'Bows aren't really knightly weapons.'

'Or priestly,' Jareth added. Then he went on, 'I guess that means you get one and Daven gets the other.' He passed her one of the quivers.

She took it, a little confused at his assumption that she knew how to use a bow, then remembered - they didn't know who she was or where she was from, they thought she was an Elf. They had no idea she was just sixteen, younger than any of them. They probably thought she was much older, maybe even by centuries.

Should she tell them? How would they react? They were listening to her, following her lead, because they thought she was a seasoned warrior. If they knew she was only part-Elven, a teenager, a novice fighter, formerly one of their servants, would they even pay any attention to her? Probably not.

And it wasn't like there was anyone else to take the lead. Daven was a bumbling boy, and both Jordan and Jareth were followers, not leaders. And Bevan was just sulking. Not that she would want to see _him_ as their leader, anyway.

They thought she was an Elven warrior - they could go on thinking that, she decided abruptly. Moving decisively, she pulled a bowstring from the quiver and quickly strung the bow, thankful for her childhood games playing with toy bows, copying the town's hunters. At least she could make it look like she knew what she was doing, even if she had never touched a real bow before.

Planting her feet, she drew the bow to its full, smiling in open delight at its ease and power. And stopped. From the corner of her eye, she saw all three men staring at her with all too familiar expressions - blatant, mindless infatuation.

She froze for a moment, as she fought against all the old impulses - to hunch her shoulders, hide behind her hair and get away from them, fast. It only took a breath before she recovered herself, but she hoped they hadn't noticed.

With a carefully expressionless face, she turned back to the quiver, and, nonchalantly, as if nothing was happening, started to pluck an arrow out. Then hesitated as a tingle ran through her fingers.

'The arrows are magical as well,' she told the others, holding one up to the light. A single Elven rune glowed on the barbed head.

'Oh.' Daven was looking embarrassed. 'Maybe you should have all the arrows, then. I've only just played around with a bow when I was a boy.'

Kiri just looked at him, at them all. She knew now how narrow a path she walked. No safety, indeed. She had to take charge, keep in control of them.

'Don't worry about it for now,' she told Daven, 'The first thing we have to do is get the courtyard gate cleared. We'll leave the bows till later.' And breathed a covert sigh of relief as all three jumped up to obey her.

It was harder to shift the dragon skull than she had anticipated, especially since Bevan and the ladies refused to help - they wouldn't even leave the Tower.

By hooking the ropes to the topmost horn they were able to flip the skull over, then swivelled it around to one side of the gate. That was as far as they could get it, so they decided that was far enough. The next obstacle was the stinking heap of corpses.

The bodies lying in the courtyard hadn't decayed, but those still on the pile of rubble were steadily decomposing, and reeked up close, as they dragged the bodies into the courtyard. They just threw the undead carcasses in a heap, but they laid out the dead knights more respectfully.

Kiri had just dumped another corpse, wrinkling her nose in disgust at the slimy mess it left on her clothes, when Jordan gave a low cry. She turned to see him high up on the ruined gatehouse, looking down at something. He spoke softly, but his words carried clearly to her.

'It's the Commander,' he said, and sank to his knees.

Kiri and the others quickly climbed the pile to his side. Commander Vayrlan lay crumpled, facedown. His outflung right hand still clutched the haft of the Panoply axe, though the blade was shattered and the shards of it were scattered beneath him.

A large silver shield lay beside him, apparently undamaged, but his armour no longer shone. As Kiri touched it, she felt only an echo of where its magic had been, and as she started to roll him over, the armour came loose, the pieces sliding off his body and clattering dully on the stones.

Jordan choked back a sudden sob, a sound of grief and shock. All three of the men were white as Kiri straightened up Vayrlan's body. The lich's blast had caught him high on his right, tearing into his chest. The hole was not large, nor even very deep, but it was enough.

It was surprising, really, how little damage the armour had taken. Those blue beams had torn through entire ranks of fighters, and blasted a huge chunk out of the cliff outside, yet the armour had suffered only this small hole, no bigger than the gash of an axe.

The Panoply armour must have been powerful indeed, to hold so well against such a devastating attack. But in the end, it had failed, unable to save Vayrlan's life.

His face was, mercifully, concealed behind a visored helm, so they did not have to see what death had done to his proud features. They were silent, the men looking stunned, but Kiri could only wonder whether the Commander had had time to realise how foolish he had been before he died.

At last, she started picking up the pieces of the armour and placed them onto the shield, stacking them as neatly as she could. She gently pulled the remains of the axe from his hand and placed it on the pile, then all of the shards of the blade - carefully, as, even though it was broken and its magic gone, the metal was still razor sharp.

Jordan and Jareth reverently lifted the body and carried it down to the courtyard, where they laid it out in front of the other knights. Meanwhile, Kiri picked up the shield and the ruined items and took them into the Tower. Up in the armoury, she laid out the armour with more respect than she had shown its late wearer.

It was still beautiful, even now that its colours were faded and dull. She trailed a finger along it, curious. It wasn't metal, nor hide, nor ceramic - maybe some kind of shell, though surely no creature ever had such a fabulous wrapping. Up close, she could see that it wasn't just green and silver, but that there were flecks of other colours as well - red and gold and blue and more.

The delicate tracery of green seemed too random to be artificial, but neither did it appear natural. It was a puzzle, and Kiri wondered how it had been made, and who had made it. Perhaps Kershel, the great mage Marly had told her about. In any case, it was an ignominious ending for armour that had lasted over a thousand years. And she had never gotten to wear it...

She couldn't help wondering what she would have looked like, shining green and silver... And then she remembered another suit of green and silver armour, the chainmail in the Cursed Armoury, locked up for being Elvish. The Commander was supposed to have the keys for it.

Quickly scrabbling through the rest of the Commander's possessions that she had collected, she found a large belt pouch. Inside, along with a couple of potions and a bag of money, was a large key ring. Many of the keys were magical, including the one that she eventually found to fit the cabinet, a small shiny steel key that glowed white. She opened the lock and swung the grille open.

There she hesitated, looking at the armour's delicate glimmer. Although the knights had acted foolishly in many other ways, she couldn't automatically assume that they had done so here as well. There might well be a very good reason why the chainmail was locked up.

Cautiously, she reached out and brushed the links with one fingertip. She felt magic, but nothing bad, so touched it again, feeling for its essence - and was delighted at what she found. The sensations she received were not just good, but pleasant, welcoming, as if the chainmail matched her own nature.

Reassured, she removed her cloak and swordbelt, and pulled on the armour. It slid on, as light and soft and quiet as silk. She shook it into place, and smiled with surprised pleasure as it tightened around her waist and below her breasts, adjusting to fit her perfectly.

Now she must really look like an Elven warrior. And for the final touch, an Elven bow. Returning to the main armoury, she strapped on a quiver and hefted a bow. She looked around, vaguely disappointed that there was no mirror for her to see what she looked like.

That was a change. It had been a long time since she had _wanted_ to see herself. She had avoided mirrors for years. Oh, well, it was time to get back to work anyway, and she headed for the stairs.

By the time she got back to the courtyard, the ruined gate had been cleared of corpses and Jareth and Daven were already swinging picks and shovels to clear a path, tossing the broken rock into the second courtyard, while Jordan was busy laying out the bodies of the women and children beside the dead knights.

Kiri stopped, stricken with guilt and mortification. While she had been playing dress-up, the men had been hard at work, dealing with the death and destruction the fortress had suffered, following _her _ideas. She might look like an Elven warrior, but she had been acting like a foolish teenager - which might be closer to what she actually _was_, but it wasn't what she wanted to be, and certainly would not help her to maintain the men's respect for her.

Quickly stripping off the bow and quiver, she hurried over to help Jordan, grateful that the three men had been so busy that they hadn't noticed her lapse into silliness.

Jordan glanced up as she approached him. He raised his eyebrows as he saw what she was wearing, and she felt her face go stiff as she braced herself, preparing for him to make some derisive comment. But after a long look, he merely nodded and returned to work.

Kiri relaxed, relieved, as he seemed to accept what she had done. Or maybe he just took it as Elven arrogance. She winced. That wasn't the image she wished to project either. Well, the only way to make up for it was through hard work. She turned to the nearest corpse, the body of a small boy. She carried him over, and placed him down, then went back for the next. And another - and another...

There were just so many bodies. It finally hit her, then, how terrible the attack had been. The fortress was practically a fair-sized village in its own right, and it had been almost entirely wiped out. All these people, maybe selfish and greedy people, but still... The irony of it was that this was exactly the sort of massacre that the Order was intended to prevent.

She glanced at Jordan as he walked past, carrying yet another child to lay out. His face was impassive, but tears had left glistening trails down his cheeks. This had been _his_ village.

For her, this had just been where she worked. She hadn't cared about anyone here - until Marly. A sudden wrench of pain shot through her chest at the thought, and her move to kneel to pick up the next body became an abrupt drop to her knees.

Tears blurred her vision. She hadn't intended to think about Marly, she couldn't... She couldn't take the time now. Grief was a luxury, and she had work to do.

She blinked her eyes clear, and focussed on the face of the dead woman. She had picked up the body and carried it across the courtyard before she even realised what she was doing - carting corpses around seemed almost normal now. Astonishing how quickly life could change - a week ago she was carrying buckets of soapy water around the fortress, now she was carrying dead people.

But even as she thought these things, a part of her mind was looking at the ruby earrings and gold bracelets the woman wore, and thinking that the corpses would have to be stripped of their valuables. Jordan would probably be the best help for that - the others likely wouldn't want anything to do with it.

These conflicting trains of thought wrapped uncomfortably around each other, giving Kiri a distinctly queasy sensation. She shook her head, trying to clear her mind, but the feelings of nausea and dizziness only increased. She stopped and put down her load, but as her hands touched the ground, a surge of _wrongness_ rushed at her from the stones of the courtyard.

Her strength left her, and she collapsed to her hands and knees, her vision reduced to a dark haze as she gasped for breath.

'Kiri! Are you all right?' Jordan's voice came dimly to her, along with alarmed cries from the men on the wall, faint and distant. But Kiri couldn't respond to them. Something foul was seeping through the courtyard, seeping into _her_.

With her mind clouded by nausea, it took her an absurdly long time to figure out what was happening - the Tower was under attack. Tarkeros had consolidated his hold on the rest of the fortress, and now he was going to obliterate the last resistance.

Or, he was going to _try_. With an angry cry, Kiri pushed back at the foul invasion of her mind, abruptly driving the corruption out. But she wasn't the focus of the attack. She looked up and saw the darkness that Tarkeros was spreading through the fortress, a wall of it rearing up outside the courtyard, preparing to crash down, wipe away the remaining defences and infect the Tower itself with his evil.

Though the Tower still stood untouched by the lich's malignant power, she could feel the pollution surging against the stones beneath her, and she had no idea how long the magical defences could stand against it.

Taking a deep breath, Kiri closed her eyes again, and, placing her hands firmly against the paved ground, reached out to the magic within the fortress and _willed_ it to resist. Immediately, she felt the foulness enter her once more. If she tried to help the Tower, she had to leave herself open to attack.

But that wasn't important. If the magic failed, they would all be dead. Steeling herself against the revolting sensations, she joined her will to the defences.

It _hurt_. The attack battered against her mind, ripping and pulling. It seemed like a physical assault, trying to break her apart, destroy her. Within moments, it felt as if her brain was bleeding and she lost all awareness of the outside world. Worst of all, she had no idea whether she was actually achieving anything.

Should she pull back, try to protect herself? She couldn't chance it, and soon she couldn't withdraw if she tried. She could only hold on and hope. The battering was unceasing, and only sheer desperation made her continue. Time became meaningless, and she simply endured.

Abruptly the attack stopped, leaving Kiri gasping, sickened and weak. And with something disgusting lodged deep inside her mind.

She could feel it there, part of Tarkeros' power that had remained behind. She tried to force it out, but she couldn't gather enough strength and it simply slithered away into another part of her head.

Hands grasped her shoulders, hauled her up. Jordan and the others - she guessed, she couldn't see. Couldn't stand.

'You did it!' Daven's voice, awe-struck. 'You drove out the evil!' His voice echoed painfully in her head and her brain started throbbing so fiercely that she couldn't make out what else they were saying.

She felt them helping her, carrying her, actually. Then her sluggish thoughts figured out what was happening - the Tower.

They were taking her to the Tower, which destroyed all evil that tried to enter it. And there was an evil taint in her mind. It would kill her!

She tried to stop, tried to protest, but it was already too late. The Tower's doorway closed around her.

A sharp searing pain, burning through her head - and the evil was gone.

Kiri sagged with exhaustion and relief.

The Tower had cleansed her once more.

* * *

Chapter Twenty Three - Arrival

A sharp icy breeze swept through the gap as soon as Kiri opened the door onto the roof. The top of the Great Tower protruded above the reach of the fortress' weather magic, and it was freezing up there. Well, of course. It was, after all, the middle of winter, and at the top of a mountain range, as well. And very exposed.

Which, although unpleasantly cold, served to give a good view. Kiri tucked her cloak tightly around herself and stepped out onto the narrow balcony behind the Tower's battlements. She hoped to see the knights coming up the road from Silverdale.

It had been eight days since the undead had attacked the fortress, which should have been ample time for the knights to arrive from Venkenka and Mear. Of course, the weather hadn't been particularly pleasant these last few days, with cold rain and driving snow, but it was about time they showed up.

The merlons might provide excellent protection for archers, but they also blocked her view of the pass road. She leaned out a crenel, pleased at the shelter it provided from the wind, and looked out over shining white mountains. The weather was perfect - clear skies, bright sun, and not too much wind - a perfect day for fighting undead, if the knights would arrive in time.

Her eyes followed the road down the pass, finding all the bends where it showed past the mountain ridges, but there was nothing moving. Silverdale wasn't visible and the Arrel Plains were just a distant blue haze. Back to the south, mountains blocked the view over Brysse, but she could just make out the southern arm of the Merishahn Mountains, far to the west.

There was nothing on the pass to the south either. She pulled her legs up and tried to get comfortable - she needed the rest. Between searching through the Tower's contents for useful items, trying to keep up some sort of defence in anticipation of an attack, and trying to keep everyone busy, maintaining the morale of her motley band, her energy was being seriously depleted.

Worst of all were the lich's continued magical attacks.

Every few hours, a wave of nausea would strike her, as Tarkeros tried once more to spread his corruption to the Tower. He was persistent, even though he didn't seem to be getting anywhere. Each time he struck, she would drop to the floor and push back against the attack.

Even in the middle of the night, she would roll out of bed before she was fully awake, place her hands against the stone, and will the Tower's magic to resist the onslaught. It didn't inflict such pain on her as it had done the first time - her mind and the Tower's magic were working together better. She still wasn't entirely certain that she was actually _doing_ anything with her efforts, but at least the darkness had, after dozens of attempts, failed to shadow the Tower courtyard.

Daven swore that the darkness had in fact retreated from her, but that was only Daven. He was just so _young_, never mind that he was two years her senior. Jordan and Jareth weren't much better, continually looking to her to make all the decisions.

And Bevan was definitely childish, with his perpetual sulk. He apparently hadn't even set foot outside the Tower since she had arrived, and still refused to talk to her, or to take part in any of their work. With so much immaturity around her, she sometimes forgot that she _wasn't_ a thousand-year-old Elf.

She was starting to _feel_ old, anyway.

The Tower still offered her strength, and she continued to accept it - that was about all that kept her going, prevented her succumbing to exhaustion.

But she had become wary of it. The Tower's magic seemed too purposeful, not merely the programmed actions of ancient spells.

She was more than half convinced that there was an intelligence directing its power. The fact that she had no idea who or what that intelligence might be certainly did nothing to lessen her misgivings. The Tower's magic was all that was keeping out the undead, and although it was still helping her, and she was helping it against Tarkeros' attempts to pervert it, she had to wonder just what it wanted.

It was one more worry she didn't need.

The clash of weapons in the courtyard far below reminded her of another worry. Leaning out a bit further, she looked down to see Jareth and Daven sparring, closely coached by Jordan, who stalked around them, occasionally calling out instructions and advice.

'Faster, Jareth! Block his attack _before_ he skewers you! Move your feet, Daven! Don't just stand there!'

It was painfully obvious that Daven was the rawest of beginners. He could attack _or_ parry _or_ move, but seemed utterly incapable of combining them.

Jareth was better, he knew the right moves and he was strong, but rather slow, and he was clearly very inexperienced. Neither of them were up to a standard where they could be thrown into battle - Daven probably wouldn't survive the first blow.

Jordan was competent, quite good actually, but she could beat him - he simply wasn't fast enough. _That_ had been a surprise. She had assumed that the knights would be skilled fighters, at least better than their men-at-arms, but Marly could have whipped Jordan without even trying.

Too much swaggering around pretending to be nobles, and not enough time actually being knights.

But what it meant was that they didn't have any truly skilled fighters - she wasn't _that_ much better than Jordan. Especially not against the kind of opposition that they faced. Which meant that they probably couldn't do much to help the knights when they arrived.

She sighed and looked back out to the icy mountains. Still nothing. She tucked her cloak tighter around herself, closed her eyes and dozed, stirring occasionally to check the road.

A scrape from the opening door woke her and she looked up to see Daven step out onto the roof platform.

'Hey,' he said as he approached her, 'Lunch is ready downstairs. I'll take over the watch.' He shivered suddenly. 'Brr. How can you sleep up here? Aren't you cold?'

She straightened up and looked around. The wind had died away completely, and although the air was still cold, the sun was warm enough to be pleasant.

She stood, and turned to see Daven still looking curiously at her - still waiting for an answer.

'No,' she said. Oh crap, that was too curt. But she couldn't think what else to say. _Damn this conversation business anyway_. She stepped back into the crenel to take another look out over the mountains.

'Don't Elves feel the cold?' Daven wanted to know. Then he gasped. 'Or,' he gulped, 'fear of heights?'

Kiri looked back over her shoulder at him, then down to the sixty-foot drop below her, where she stood perched on the outer edge of the battlements. She couldn't understand why anyone would be scared of heights. It was like knives - sure, they could be dangerous, but if you treated them with caution, you would be alright.

'No,' she said again. She had no idea whether that was true or not, she was just hoping that her terse response would put an end to his prattle. It didn't.

Daven stepped up into the neighbouring crenel - but kept well back from the edge. 'You know, I've always wanted to meet an Elf. Bevan says that all Elves are cowardly and treacherous, but I don't think he's ever met an Elf before, either. I don't know why he's still suspicious of you, he should have realised by now that you're here to help us.'

Kiri groaned silently, and turned her attention back to the mountains.

A dark column of soldiers wound along the distant road. Kiri sucked in a quick breath. 'They're here,' she breathed.

'What?' Daven asked, startled. He spun about and stared out to the pass. 'Oh,' he said as he spotted them, then he frowned and squinted against the sunlight. 'Are you sure that's them?'

Kiri glanced at him. Was there something wrong with his eyes? It was _obviously_ the knights and men-at-arms of the Order of the Star. Sparkling points of sunlight shone from breastplate and helm, and at the front of the column the green and silver banner of the Order flew proudly.

They were on foot, she saw. They must have left their horses at Silverdale. She eyed the road, tried to judge how far they were from the fortress. She must have missed them on the earlier bends of the road, as they were already quite close - about quarter of an hour away, she estimated.

'You stay here,' she told Daven. 'Give us a call when they reach the front gates. I'll go and get the others ready.' She looked at him. Of his equipment, he wore only his swords. 'I'll bring up your breastplate and bow.' She, of course, was already fully armed and armoured.

She sped down the stairs, down two levels and into the dining room. All of the others were there, idling over the remains of their lunch. They all looked up as she burst in on them.

'The knights are here!' she told them, 'About quarter of an hour away. It's time to get ready.'

The ladies looked up in alarm, but Jordan immediately jumped up and headed for the door. Jareth gaped a moment in confusion, then quickly scrambled up to follow. Kiri started after them, then stopped as she saw that Bevan was only slowly pushing himself to his feet.

Kiri eyed him challengingly. _Are you going to end your sulk, now that you have the chance to look like a hero in front of your comrades?_

Bevan hesitated, looking uncertain, until the pretty blonde sitting beside him gasped and grabbed his sleeve. 'Oh, you must not leave us here alone!' she cried.

He looked down at her, then up at Kiri, a tight smirk on his face. 'I must remain here to guard the ladies,' he told her. The blonde simpered happily, but the brunette woman across the table frowned at him and hugged the little girl closer.

Kiri scowled. Guard them from what? Anything that could break into the Tower wouldn't be stopped by a single knight, but another fighter outside could make a huge difference. But it was no more than she had expected of him, and she spun away, dismissing him from her mind and turning her thoughts to the coming battle.

In the ground floor rooms, Jordan was already dressed in his cuirass, and he was busily strapping Jareth into his plate armour. Kiri scooped up Daven's equipment and raced back up the stairs.

'What's happening?' she asked as she reached the roof.

'They're still some way off,' Daven told her, briefly glancing over his shoulder at her, then back to the action out in front.

'Are the undead doing anything?' Kiri asked as she came up behind him. She dropped the bow and quiver and lifted the cuirass for Daven to slide into.

'Nothing I've seen, no movement at all.' His voice was muffled for a moment behind the thick plate. 'Maybe they don't even know what's happening,' he added hopefully.

Kiri tightened the straps on his armour then slung the quiver across his shoulder and strapped it into place. 'I doubt it,' she told him. 'They don't have such a good vantage point, but I'm sure they have lookouts in the watch towers.'

He nodded absently, and lifted his bow. 'I'm not sure how much good this is going to do,' he said, frowning at it. 'It's been ages since I used a bow and I don't know if I'll even be able to hit anything.'

Kiri snorted in amusement. 'Well, you've got forty arrows, and considering the numbers of undead, you should hit something.' She just hoped that she would do as well.

He gave her a brief grin, then turned back to his watch. She stepped up beside him and looked out to the knights, still trickling up the road.

'I wonder what they're going to do,' she mused, 'whether they're going to set up a siege outside, or come charging in to the Tower, then fight from the inside out.'

'Like you did,' Daven grinned at her. She twitched her lips, the closest she could get to a return smile, as she wondered what the best way to handle this would be. For all their pondering about how they were going to break Tarkeros' forces, they didn't actually have a plan ready for this moment.

'I'm going down. You stay here and shout to tell us what they're doing. Just shout _One _or _Two._ One if they set up a siege, or Two if they're coming in. That way you won't warn the undead as well, if they hear you. Alright?'

He nodded. 'Right. Got it.' He glanced at her. 'Do you want me to come down after that?'

'If they stay outside, we'll all come up here. But if they come in, you come down. We'll have to give them covering fire.' She hesitated, trying to think of some better course of action, then shook her head. 'That's about all we _can_ do for them.'

He nodded again. She glanced at him and approved of what she saw. He might seem like a foolish boy most of the time, but now that combat was imminent, he looked steady. Or at least his nervousness wasn't as obvious as it had been when she first met him. Maybe all that weapons training had done some good after all.

'They're almost here,' he said, and she ran for the stairs.

Down below, she found Jordan and Jareth standing ready at the edge of the courtyard. She looked up to check that she could see Daven, and saw him wave down to her. She waved back and moved to stand with the others.

'What now?' Jordan asked her.

'Now, we wait. See what the knights are going to do.'

'Surely they'll attack. I mean, after what happened to the last attempt at a siege.'

'Maybe, but charging in won't be so easy, either. There'll be traps laid all along the way.'

He looked sharply at her. 'We haven't seen any.'

Damn, hadn't they discussed that, either? But of course the undead would have fortified their positions and laid traps, it should be obvious. She clenched her teeth to avoid saying so, instead making it a mild, 'No, but I'll be very surprised if they haven't.'

He nodded slowly. 'Right. And they'll have to get through before the undead can attack in force.'

Kiri felt a sudden chill. 'Attack,' she said. He looked at her in confusion, and she told him, 'Look up. What do you see?' He obediently looked up, but she didn't wait for him to figure it out.

'Sunshine. Full noon sunshine. Do you think they'll expect undead to attack in broad daylight? They don't know about the darkness.'

'Oh. Oh, hell. They probably think that they can just walk in. Can we warn them?'

'I don't see how. Not without falling into the traps ourselves.' She looked around, desperately searching for an idea. Curse it, where had their brains been when they had been planning for this moment? They hadn't thought of any of this. She had to do something before all their chances disappeared.

'You stay here,' she told Jordan and Jareth. 'I'll go and... see what I can do.' Oh damn, how lame could she get?

Everything was falling apart.


	9. Downfall

**Chapter Twenty Four - Traps**

Kiri slung her bow over her shoulders and ran up the ruined gate. They hadn't been able to shift all of the rubble, but they had smoothed and levelled it, making a reasonable path.

At the top of the slope she paused, nervously scanning the courtyard. She had gotten through once, but she had no illusions about doing it again. She looked up at the wall, but the undead would surely have learned that trick. Still, she might at least be able to see a way through from up there.

From atop the wall she still couldn't see the outer gate, but this wall was topped with battlements, unlike the inner wall, which was just a plain barrier between the first and second courtyards.

Kiri reached up, grabbed the edge of a merlon, and sprang onto its top. She crouched there, cautiously watching for motion on the far side, but she didn't see any, not from the undead, nor from the Order. She could just make out the top of the outer gates, or rather, the gap where the gates had been, but there was no sign of the knights.

She rose to her full height, even stood on tiptoes, but she still couldn't see anything. What were the knights up to? The cold breeze had come back. It chilled her ears, made her shiver.

She twisted to look up to Daven on top of the Tower, another thirty feet above her and about one hundred and fifty yards further back. She could just make out the frown on his face as he shook his head in exaggerated motions, to tell her that the knights weren't in position yet. He must be wondering what she was doing.

Below her, Jordan and Jareth still stood where she had left them, staring up at her. She looked down at them helplessly, then grimaced and spun back around to stare out at the courtyard. If the knights were still not ready to enter, then she had time to get to them, but she had to act _now!_

Two hundred yards separated her from the second gate, and about another two hundred and fifty to the outer gates. Running, she could cross that in a flash. Could she do that, just run, and trust to blind luck to avoid any traps?

She didn't have to worry about the undead just yet, they wouldn't spring the darkness until the knights were well within the walls. But if she didn't get there in time, if she was caught in a trap, or worse, wounded, she would be easy prey.

To her right, the wall stretched smoothly to a watchtower and the outer walls. Her eyes swept along the line of them. They looked to be clear, an easy path. She doubted that it truly was, but at least traps on the wall should be easier to spot than in the debris-strewn courtyard.

She jumped down from the battlements and sprinted along the wall, only slowing as she neared the watchtower. Would there be undead inside? Probably not, so near to the Great Tower, but it was possible. Still, as long as she kept in the sunlight and stayed away from the door and the slit windows, they wouldn't be able to get her.

Grabbing at the wall, she redirected her momentum and hopped up into a crenel. It was only a short distance across to the outer wall, but the crenel was too narrow to jump from. Better to get up on top of the battlements, and jump down from there.

She swung herself up, then stood in one smooth motion, a hand to the watchtower's wall to steady herself. A light caught her eye, a dully glowing patch of red against the tower's stone, just a couple of feet in front of her. Even as she saw it, the light abruptly brightened, then, with a loud _crack_, detonated.

Shards of brilliant red erupted outwards. Instinctively, Kiri threw an arm up to protect her face as she desperately lurched backwards. The blast struck, spinning her around and knocking her over.

She landed on the very edge of the battlements, one leg dangling limply over the rim. She just lay there, dazed for a while, until she realised that she wasn't badly hurt. Her entire left side was numb though, and when she tried to push herself up, her left arm simply flopped about uselessly.

Dismayed, she stared at it, then shook it, relieved when a prickling sensation indicated the return of feeling. It still wouldn't support her weight, but she managed to sit up. The red glow had gone from the wall, she saw. _Magical_ traps. She had been thinking in terms of trip wires and pits, not magic.

Looking along the wall, she couldn't see any more red glows, but then, she hadn't seen this one until she was right on top of it. If she ran into another one like that, she would be left completely paralysed. She couldn't risk it. She would have to find another way to reach the knights. Back to the gate.

But it wasn't so easy. As she slid off the battlements back onto the wall, her left leg buckled and collapsed. 'Ow!' she gasped, but immediately lurched up again, stoically ignoring the stabs of pain shooting through her leg. Running was impossible, but she managed a limping hobble.

A hundred yards was as far as she got, though, before she tripped and fell. Only her outflung hands saved her from slamming head-first into the stone. Her bow slipped off her shoulders. The impact jarred her whole body, and she had to slowly push herself back onto her knees, hissing at the pain from her bruised hands.

She shook her head clear, then painfully started levering herself up again. Then stopped, staring at the bow. What was it about the bow, something she hadn't thought of...? Oh, of _course_! A message arrow! Tie a letter to an arrow and shoot it to the knights. How _obvious_, it should have been the first thing she thought of!

Abandoning her attempt to get up, she instead wrenched open her satchel and rummaged inside for paper, pen and ink. She had taken some from the chapels, but now she had to find them underneath everything else she had piled in there. The potion box, a bag of coins, some uncut gems... there, a bundle of steel-nibbed pens...

'Two! Two! Two!' Daven's harsh shout from the Tower chilled her blood, and the pens slipped from her suddenly limp hand. She swivelled her head to look up at him and saw him urgently pointing to the main gate where the column of knights must be entering.

All she could do for a moment was to stare in blank dismay, but then she saw Daven turn to look at her, waiting for her to acknowledge his signal. She lifted a hand to wave in reply and he immediately turned away and vanished from the battlements.

Kiri looked down at her satchel, the bow. Too late for that. But even though there was no time to write a message, maybe a plain arrow would serve to alert the knights.

Quickly snapping the satchel shut and grabbing up the bow, she lurched to her feet and into a crenel. She tried to climb up onto the merlon, but her left arm still hadn't recovered enough. It wouldn't bend, either, she found as she tried to pull an arrow from the quiver. Instead, she had to reach across with her right arm.

The left arm couldn't draw the bow, she realised. She swapped hands, and by jamming her left thumb against the grip and locking her elbow, she was able to hold the bow in position.

Even with that awkward grip, the bow drew smoothly and easily. Kiri drew it to its full pull, then aimed. Her left arm wobbled wildly. She only had the vaguest idea of where the outer gates were from here. Quickly guessing at where to aim, she released. The bow sprang from her weak grasp, and she had to desperately fumble after it before it could tumble over the edge.

By the time she had the bow under control again, she had lost sight of where the arrow had gone. But she was quite sure it hadn't landed anywhere near the knights. She would have to try again.

But not from here. Going back to the gate would at least give her a clear sight line through to the outer gates. She headed back along the wall in a stumbling run. Feeling was starting to come back to her arm and leg, but they were still hampering her.

Back at the ruined gate, she again climbed up on the merlon, this time with a clumsy scrabble, quite unlike her earlier smooth grace. From here, she could see the shining helms of the knights as they marched over the rubble of the outer gate and into the first courtyard.

But...what were they doing? A squad split off from either side of the column, and they swung aside to mount the walls. Two more groups peeled away, one towards the men-at-arms' hall, the other to the stables.

Kiri stared in disbelief. What did the knights think they were doing? It was as if ... as if they thought they were securing an _abandoned_ fortress, not storming an occupied one. Didn't they even realise that the undead were still in possession? Did they still think, as she had, that the undead had left after destroying the besiegers?

They had to be warned, and now. This time her left hand could grasp an arrow, but it was still too weak to draw the bow. Where was Daven? He was uninjured, and should be able to shoot an arrow for her.

She turned to see where he had got to, but a motion atop the Tower, a glint of steel, caught her eye. Was he still...? No, that was Bevan, flanked by the two ladies. _Watching the show?_ Kiri thought sourly. But the brunette was waving a brightly coloured scarf.

Would that banner alert the knights? She looked back, but couldn't see much of them now, as they were hidden behind the inner wall. They seemed to be still carrying on, oblivious.

'Kiri?' She spun around, to see Daven standing with Jordan and Jareth at the edge of the courtyard.

'Daven! Get up here!' She saw him hesitate, open his mouth to question. 'Now!'

She dropped down to sit cross-legged on the stone, again ferreting in her satchel for writing tools. By the time she had found them, Daven was standing on the wall below her.

'Kiri?' he panted, 'What's...'

She cut him off. 'The knights don't seem to realise what they're up against. We have to warn them.'

'Oh. Right. But how?'

'Get up on that merlon, and see if you can drop an arrow on the far side of the second gate. We can tie this note I'm writing to an arrow and you can shoot it to the knights.' She spread a piece of paper flat on the satchel, dipped her pen into the ink, and tried to think of the best phrasing.

Daven laboriously clambered onto the next merlon, unslung his bow and pulled out an arrow. Then he hesitated, and said, 'But they're almost at the gate, why can't we just...'

A thunderous bang exploded from the first courtyard, echoing off the walls, and answering Daven's question before he finished asking.

'Because there are traps laid all through the courtyards,' Kiri elaborated for the benefit of the trainee knight, who was now staring wide-eyed, as the sound of screaming men reached them. 'I ran into one before, that's why I need you to shoot the arrow.'

A deep rumble made her jerk her head up, then she relaxed as she realised it was just echoes from the surrounding mountainside. Daven was still staring blankly.

'Daven!' Kiri snapped. His head swivelled around to face her, still looking blank. 'Shoot the arrow, Daven,' she said, with as much patience as she could muster.

He snapped back to alertness, fitted his arrow to the string, drew and released. It flew wide, bouncing off the wall several yards to the right of the gate.

'Try again, Daven,' she told him, and turned back to her writing. So far, she had two lines, and she read them again.

_Undead army occupies fortress.  
__They can make unnatural darkness over the whole fortress._

That probably wasn't enough. The knights could spend valuable time figuring out exactly what that meant and what to do about it. More explosions, and more screams, erupted from the courtyard, but Kiri gritted her teeth, kept her head down, and added two more lines.

_You are in extreme danger.  
Get out of the fortress immediately_.

She would have preferred to have them reach the Great Tower, but there was practically no chance of that. She grabbed for an arrow, then started to reach into her satchel for some string. No, she didn't want to scrabble through that lot again. She drew her dagger instead, and cut the laces from her tunic.

'They're coming up the gate!' Daven yelled. Kiri cursed under her breath and quickly began tying the message to the shaft. At least her left arm was nearly back to normal.

'Have you managed to get an arrow where we need it?' she demanded, as she started the knot.

'Yes, I can get it to them,' Daven assured her.

'Here, then, shoot this!' She handed him the message arrow, stuffed everything back into her satchel and stood.

The knights were just trailing up to the top of the second gate, their men-at-arms in disarray but following behind them. The squads on the wall were clearly reduced in number, and nearly half of them were being supported by their comrades as they limped towards the main group. Further back, a couple of bodies still lay where they had fallen.

Daven shot. The arrow flew well, but the paper tied to it dragged it down, and it fell short, halfway down the rubble heap of the second gate. That was close enough - the first few knights were already starting down. They stopped as the arrow hit, and all eyes went to it, then followed its path back to Kiri and Daven, standing atop the wall.

Kiri waved to them, and a moment later Daven copied her. 'Pick up the damn arrow,' she hissed under her breath.

Finally, one of the knights left their milling ranks and fetched the arrow. He stripped the note off and was about to toss the arrow aside, when he stopped and took another look at it. He shot a look up to the battlements, then scurried back to the others.

Kiri frowned. What was that about? She saw the knight push through the ranks to reach two men with silver and green cloaks, not the plain green worn by the other knights. That must be the marshals, she couldn't remember their names - yes, she could, Marshal Argan of Venkenka, and Tobellim of Mear.

The three men conferred a moment, and Kiri saw both note and arrow waved around. 'Come on,' she muttered in annoyance. 'Surely it's clear enough for you.'

Then one of the marshals pulled out a tube and raised it to his eye - a field-glass. 'What are they doing?' Daven asked, but Kiri was just as perplexed, as the marshal seemed to be looking straight at them. What was he looking for?

Abruptly, the marshal snapped his field-glass closed, and barked orders drifted across the distance. Finally, Kiri sighed, then gasped in surprise. The knights weren't retreating. They formed battle-lines and began to advance.

'What are they doing?' Daven asked again, 'Aren't they supposed to be going back?'

'Oh, no.' Kiri figured out what had happened. Elven arrow, Elven warrior in Elven armour... and the knights hate Elves. 'They think it's a trick.'

And darkness fell.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Five - Downfall**

The Order's advance came to a ragged halt as all of the knights stopped and stared up at the sky with what, in other circumstances, would have been comical confusion. In the sudden gloom, they didn't even notice the undead erupt out of the buildings around them.

Kiri gasped in horror as she saw the sheer numbers of the undead horde flooding across the courtyard. Shadows led the charge, easily flowing and leaping over the ruins. They were followed by a larger mass of ghouls and other things, slower than the shadows but still quickly closing on their prey.

Last to exit the ruins came an even greater army of the lesser undead, clumsy shambling things driven by a mindless desire to destroy all life. The already battered remnants of the Order were hopelessly outnumbered.

It was the perfect moment for an ambush, with the knights on one side of the gate and the men-at-arms still on the other. The only positive for the Order was that they had the small patch of high ground, and with the path behind them cleared of traps, they might just have a chance of fighting their way back to safety.

A very small chance. And there was almost nothing she could do about it, other than to send a few arrows into the throng. Daven was yelling something, but whether in simple horror or some last vain attempt to alert the knights, Kiri couldn't tell - she was completely focussed on killing as many of the enemy as she possibly could.

As smoothly as if she had been an archer her whole life, Kiri fitted an arrow to the string and, even as she drew the bow, she was tracking one of the leading shadows - _released_, and without waiting to see if she'd managed to hit her target, reached for another arrow.

A great cry went up from the knights as they finally realised what was happening. They jostled, panicked, until their officers shouted orders. The ranks settled, and started a disciplined retreat - too slow, too late.

Kiri ignored it all, firing arrows as fast as she could pluck them from the quiver, but a scrabbling beside her broke her concentration, and she turned to see that Daven had dropped his bow and was climbing down onto the wall.

'Daven! Get back up here!' she yelled. Surely he wasn't turning coward now.

He twisted to look back up at her. 'We have to help them!' he bawled at her, his faced twisted up with intense emotions. He drew his sword and started for the slope down to the courtyard. Was he intending to attack the undead alone, with just his sword? That was insanity.

'Daven, you can't...' He didn't stop. 'If you go down there you'll die!' she shouted at him, desperate to make him listen. And, fortunately, he hesitated. Kiri quickly continued while she had his attention.

'If you want to help them, get back up here and use your bow. Going down there is just suicide.'

He looked back at her, then down into the courtyard, still wavering, his lips drawn back in a grimace as he tried to think what to do.

Kiri opened her mouth to say something more, but at that moment screams rang out, the sound of clashing steel and terrible, unnatural howls. Spinning about, she saw that the shadows had reached the Order's lines, but they had not simply thrown themselves against the knights' swords.

Even as Kiri watched, the last ten shadows leaped high over the front ranks, to plummet into the middle of the mass of humans. One knight managed to get his sword up in time to skewer one of the undead as it crashed into him, but the other nine undead joined nearly forty others of their kind as they tore apart the centre of the knights' formation.

Instantly, and with uncanny precision, the entire second wave of monsters, the ghouls and their kin, sprang into an all-out sprint, crossed the intervening space in a heartbeat, and smashed into the human front line - even as many of the knights were still looking over their shoulders at what was happening behind them.

The knights' ranks disintegrated. The front lines simply disappeared as they were flattened in the charge. Most of the first line of ghouls went down, too, but the rest drove straight over top of the fallen, trampling friend and foe alike.

The remaining knights were thrust apart into small knots of men, desperately struggling against the swarm flowing around them. The largest group, those highest on the gate mound, tried to force their way back into the outer courtyard, but another group of shadows came pouring in from that direction, pushing them back. There was no sign of the men-at-arms.

Kiri was shooting again, her teeth clenched, raining arrows down into the mass of undead - for all the good it did. Below her, she could hear Daven gasping 'No, oh gods, no!' as he stared out at the slaughter of his comrades.

'Daven,' she rasped, 'use your bow!' It was useless, she knew that, but they had to try.

One group of knights tried to fight towards the Great Tower, but ran right into a trap. With a dull roar, a huge fireball erupted outward, engulfing the men. Many of the undead around them were also caught in the explosion, charring and burning, and possibly fifty of them didn't rise again.

But when the flames died down, only two men struggled up. They didn't even manage to get to their feet before the surviving undead came charging back, ravenous for their blood. Kiri could see the men clearly, hardly more than seventy yards away, on their knees. One man snarled in desperate fury and lashed out, cutting a ghoul in half. But it fell on him and both of the men disappeared under the charge.

Kiri shot half a dozen arrows into the monsters swarming over the spot where the men had been, but they didn't reappear. After a moment, the undead turned towards one of the other struggling groups. They left behind a torn heap of flesh, a few dull shards of metal, and bright splashes of blood, scattered across the courtyard stones. Kiri tasted salt, and realised that she was crying.

A deep tangle of shadow moved to her right and she turned. The last part of the undead army had emerged from the knights' hall. The lich stood wrapped in darkness, surveying the battle. Beside his impenetrable ebon robes, the vampire's black armour seemed merely a dusty grey.

Behind the two stood Tarkeros' retinue, five huge shadows, monsters bigger and clearly far more powerful than their brethren. An aura of vilest evil emanated from the small group.

Without thought, Kiri sent an arrow arcing towards the lich, and hissed in vicious satisfaction as it flew straight and true. But just as it struck, there was a brief burst of white sparks. Kiri blinked, unsure what had just happened. Then ducked, barely in time, as her arrow whistled back over her head.

She gasped for breath, shocked by the near miss. The lich's shield reflected missiles and spells, she remembered that now. Well, she wouldn't try that again. She started to straighten up, then stopped, the breath caught in her throat, as a truly hideous sensation seized her.

Slowly, she forced her head up - and was skewered on two red fires of absolute malevolence. Across the distance, Tarkeros was staring directly into her eyes.

Time seemed to freeze, along with the blood in her veins. She had no idea how long she crouched there, unable to move, but it was actually no more than a few heartbeats before the lich looked away, releasing her once more.

Shakily, she drew a breath and forced herself upright. Tarkeros, she saw, had found something more important to hold his attention. On the far side of the courtyard, some of the knights looked like they might actually be able to break free.

A group of ten or twelve knights, including both marshals, was moving up the broken wall, fighting a rearguard action as they retreated. A few shadows tried to clamber around the sides of the walls, clinging to the stone, to get behind the group, but they were cut down as they came.

Just a few yards more and the knights would be on top of the wall. From there, with the traps all cleared, they would have a clear path out of the fortress, to escape.

Obviously, Tarkeros was not inclined to let that happen. He stretched out one skeletal hand, made a few brief gestures. A blue light gathered about his hand and, with one final motion, he tossed it high into the air.

The blue globe flew smoothly towards the knights, becoming brighter as it went, until it alighted on the head of one of the marshals - where it fizzled. It simply gave a few little sparks and faded away.

Kiri laughed with surprised delight. It seemed Tarkeros wasn't the only one with magical protection. Although the lich was barely visible within his cloak of blackness, his anger was palpable.

But if his magic had been foiled, he was far from finished. He turned to the vampire and she immediately leapt into motion. With the incredible speed Kiri had seen before, the vampire shot across the courtyard - not towards the gate, obstructed as that direction was by the undead army, but straight toward the wall.

The wreckage which littered her path didn't hinder her at all, as she simply leaped lightly over even the largest chunks of ruined masonry. And when she came to the wall, she didn't even slow.

Seven feet out, the vampire jumped, swung her feet into the wall - and ran straight up the sheer face. She reached the top behind the group of knights and started towards them. Two men had also reached the top and they turned to face her.

Kiri grabbed for an arrow, noticing as she did so that it was her last. But one arrow in the right place might be all that was needed. She nocked, drew, aimed and shot, all in an instant.

The Soulthorn Glaive was a blur as the vampire slammed into the knights, yet they managed to parry her attacks. Though they were off-balance and staggering under the fury of her strike, if they could hold her off just a little longer, their comrades would join them. Even now, one of the marshals was scrabbling onto the wall.

Kiri's arrow hit. It merely glanced off the vampire's armoured back, but it was enough to make her dodge aside, looking over her shoulder for the new opponent.

Thinking to take advantage of the distraction, both knights lunged for her, their swords aimed to skewer her. But she was too fast. She had already realised what had hit her, and she was turning back again.

The Glaive struck. One blade smashed both swords aside, then the second blade spun around and slammed straight through one knight's breastplate.

The man died instantly - from the Glaive's death magic or simply because of the huge piece of razor sharp metal through his heart. He crumpled but was held up, kneeling, by the blade still stuck in his chest.

The other knight attacked, but the vampire twisted the Glaive's shaft up to block, then lashed out, and her clawed hand ripped through the man's face. He screamed and dropped his sword, staggering back with both hands clutching his face. It looked like the vampire had torn out an eye.

He swayed, apparently unaware that he stood on the very edge of the wall - until the vampire stepped forward and kicked him in the stomach, sending him toppling backward. He screamed all the way down and disappeared under a mass of undead.

The vampire wrenched her weapon free of the dead man and turned to the marshal. He had only just got to his feet, unbalanced and right on the brink of the slope. His eyes widened as he realised his precarious situation.

Still, he was a strong fighter. He managed to deflect three blows before he finally lost his balance and tumbled back down, rolling into the men below him.

The knights slipped and struggled on the broken rock but the vampire, with whatever magic had allowed her to run up a vertical wall, had no trouble at all, darting and striking down the slope, dodging out of reach, killing with impunity.

In seconds, half of the group was dead, and the rest, their momentum lost and unable to move, were quickly engulfed by the ghouls. The men struggled for a little longer, but they soon fell.

Across two hundred yards, the vampire looked Kiri straight in the eye and smirked at her. Kiri ground her teeth in frustration, and looked back to the courtyard, hoping someone might yet survive.

There was no hope. Only one small group of knights still stood, a tiny island of resistance completely ringed by ravening undead. They would surely be overwhelmed in moments.

But then, for no apparent reason, the undead stopped and stepped back. The four men stared around wildly, their swords held out defensively in shaking hands as they waited for the inevitable.

No attack came. Instead, the undead parted, forming a long path. The knights spun to face that gap. One started forward, then hesitated, knowing that whatever this was, it was not a way out.

That was confirmed when Tarkeros stepped into the far end of that avenue and started slowly towards the men. They immediately formed a defensive line, swords raised as they stood ready to meet the lich's attack.

Tarkeros moved casually, like a nobleman taking a stroll in his own gardens. Yet the knights didn't waver as they faced that slow advance. Kiri felt a surge of admiration for the four men. They were doomed, and must surely know it as well as she did, but they resolutely faced their enemy without any sign of fear.

Or was it resolve? Kiri frowned as she looked at the group. They weren't moving at all - they didn't even seem to be breathing and their eyes were fixed with identical cornered-rabbit stares.

She cursed under her breath. The lich had paralysed them with his gaze, just as he had done to her. But these men could not be saved by a distraction, as she had been. They would be slaughtered like cattle.

Kiri winced and looked away, tears prickling her eyes. She didn't want to watch this. As she turned away, she became aware of Daven, standing below her in the crenel.

The trainee knight sobbed and gasped as he fumbled an arrow to his bowstring and shot wildly out into the courtyard. He probably couldn't even see where he was shooting, blinded as he was by the tears streaming down his face.

Kiri knelt and reached down to him. 'Stop, Daven. It's no use.'

He didn't seem to hear her, and reached for another arrow. 'Daven!' She slid off the merlon and grabbed his arms. 'Daven, stop! It's over. There's nothing you can do.'

He turned his tear-streaked face to her, his eyes completely desolate. His mouth moved, but he couldn't seem to find any words.

She didn't have any words for him either. She just clutched his arms, feeling the trembling in his body. Over his shoulder, she could see the scene in the courtyard below.

Only three men still stood - one had already fallen. As she watched, the black shape of Tarkeros stepped up to the second man in line. Ignoring the knight's sword, frozen in guard stance, the lich raised his own blade and delicately stabbed the man in the throat.

There was a small blue flash, and the knight's body disintegrated, collapsing into dust. Kiri gasped and stiffened, and Daven tried to twist out of her grasp to see what she was looking at.

'No, Daven!' She pulled him out onto the wall and pushed him up against the merlon. 'No,' she said more gently, 'There's nothing more we can do.'

'But... We...' He looked at her helplessly.

'No.' She shook her head. 'It's just the trap now. Remember? The trap we planned? That's all we have left.'

Daven nodded wearily and looked past her, into the Tower courtyard. Kiri followed his gaze and saw Jordan and Jareth standing there, exactly as they had been before the fighting had started.

Kiri stared at them, confused for a moment, feeling for a moment as if none of it had happened. But then she noticed their wide eyes and pale faces. They couldn't see anything from there, but they knew how the fight had gone.

She turned back to Daven, and grasped him by the shoulder, turning him toward the slope down. 'Go tell them to get ready. Tell them we're going to use the trap.'

He nodded and started down. As he turned away, Kiri saw he still had five arrows left in his quiver and she quickly plucked them out. There were another two arrows that he had dropped in the crenel - together they would be enough for what she had to do.

At that moment there came a terrible screech, so loud it numbed her ears, as every member of the undead army cried out in triumph. The last knight had fallen.

Kiri sucked in a breath, then slowly exhaled, bowing her head. She had forgotten her antagonism towards the knights, and right now, in this hour of disaster,it seemed no more than childish pique. Whatever the failings of the Order, they had fought against evil. And now... they were no more.

She brushed tears from her eyes and lifted her head. Daven had stopped halfway down the slope. He didn't look behind him, but turned to meet her eyes. She held his gaze for a long moment before nodding to him. His face seemed to firm, and then he returned her nod before turning and hurrying down to the two men waiting below. He didn't look so boyish any more.

Jareth and Jordan came up to meet him eagerly enough, but then gaped in disbelief as he spoke to them. They stared at him as he gestured, indicating the trap, telling them to get ready.

They looked at him, at each other, then up at Kiri, silently begging her to tell them it wasn't true. As if reality would rearrange itself for their sake.

She nodded exaggeratedly and repeated Daven's gestures, pointing them to their positions. They shared one long appalled look before unwillingly shuffling off to their places.

Kiri could well imagine what they were feeling. She wasn't happy either that it had come down to this - their clumsy, makeshift trap.

And it truly was their last chance, she realised. If they couldn't take Tarkeros down now, then there would be no chance of further help until Spring.

With the Order destroyed, the only other force in the region that might hope to dislodge the undead was the Bryssan army. And armies don't march before late Spring, at the earliest.

In that time - she shivered - the villages of Marquan and Arrel, and Silverdale itself, would be left open to anything Tarkeros might wish to do. By the time Spring arrived, there could well be nobody left alive. That was a lot of consequence to put on one flimsy trap.

And yet, as simple as the trap was, there was a good chance that it would work.

It just needed the right bait.

That was her job.


	10. Lure

**Chapter Twenty Six - Lure**

_One last hope, if only I can lure him in._

From the top of the ruined gate, Kiri surveyed the courtyard. The undead still swirled and eddied, searching out any last survivors lying amongst the dead. Tarkeros stood in their midst, his shadow guard behind him.

She needed to get his attention, but shooting at him would be counter-productive, protected as he was. But killing one of his special shadows should annoy him.

A moment later, her arrow _thunked_ into the throat of the nearest shadow. To a living creature, such a wound would have been instantly fatal, but the huge shadow seemed merely annoyed. With a growl, it ripped the arrow from its neck and turned to glare at her.

Before it could do anything else, the vampire moved. She sped down from the far wall and then actually ran across the heads of the undead army, as easily as if she was walking on a cobbled street. She raced towards Kiri, her Glaive held ready to kill.

Instantly, Kiri had another arrow nocked. Killing the vampire would be good, too. But then the vampire just stopped, one foot on a ghoul's head, the other on a zombie's shoulder. Although Tarkeros had made no sound, she turned toward him, and it was obvious that he had given her some command.

That just made it easier for Kiri. She let her arrow fly, her target stationary and barely a hundred yards off. It should have struck the vampire in the head, but it was still five feet away when the vampire turned and slashed the arrow from the air with contemptuous ease.

She glowered at Kiri, but simply turned and ran lightly over to join Tarkeros. He and his retinue were now walking straight toward Kiri. _They were coming_.

Her heart jumped with both elation and fear. Her trap might yet work. Or she might just get herself killed. She could already feel the loathsome feeling from the lich's stare.

Kiri steeled herself against his gaze and kept her eyes on his chest. If she froze now, she would be dead before she knew what had happened.

She had another arrow ready, but hesitated. It might not be necessary. And she only had a few left. Glancing back over her shoulder, Kiri saw Daven waiting in the Tower courtyard, standing ready as he looked up at her. There was no sign of Jareth and Jordan. They should be in position.

Facing front again, Kiri raised her bow once more. But still she hesitated. She had to make it look like she posed a credible, if weak, threat, but if she pushed Tarkeros too much, he might simply attack. With no more outside forces to consider, he could throw his full power into destroying the Tower's defences.

There could be little doubt how that would end. If the lich wished it, he could order his army into the Tower courtyard and then simply walk across their bodies to attack the Tower directly.

She had to make it look like she was making a last feeble resistance - not difficult, that was actually true. But still, she wanted to kill something. Where was that shadow she had shot before? It was hard to tell, they all looked the same. Except one had a darker splotch at its neck. That one. Maybe another arrow would do the job.

The shot should have passed to the right and slightly above Tarkeros' head, but as the arrow approached him, the lich swung up his shield. It shouldn't have been high enough to block the shot, but there was a flash of white sparks. The shield's protection clearly extended out quite a distance.

Without thinking, Kiri swayed out of the way and snapped the arrow out of the air as it came humming back past her. Then she stopped, confused, looking at the arrow in her hand. Should she have done that? Would that give the impression that she wasn't as defenceless as she wanted it to look?

Suddenly, the whole thing seemed absurd. It must be so _obvious_ that she was trying to lead the undead into a trap. Surely Tarkeros must realise what she was doing. But he just continued his steady, unhurried approach.

So. Either Tarkeros was so arrogant and assured of his power that he was oblivious to any possible threat, or… he knew precisely what he was walking into, and he was just toying with her.

Perhaps the undead had already found the trap. Maybe even - she felt a sudden panic - destroyed it. She shot a quick look over her shoulder, but of course there was nothing to see - no way to tell.

It was too late to check - much too late. She would just have to risk it. Not that she had any choice. This was their last hope, and she had to play it for all it was worth.

Turning back to the undead, Kiri started to nock the arrow again - then jumped in sudden fright. Tarkeros was much closer than she had expected, he was less than thirty yards away - much too close when the vampire could move so fast.

With her heart pounding in her chest, Kiri hesitated a moment. Then without conscious thought, she turned and skittered back down the slope to the Tower courtyard.

She was halfway down before she could stop her instinctive flight, and she turned to look back. The undead were out of sight. She took a deep, calming breath and looked around. The markers for the trap were there, as they should be, but there was no sign of the trap itself - which was good, but she could only hope it had not been tampered with.

Continuing down the slope, she saw that everything else appeared to be ready as well. Jareth and Jordan were still out of sight, well past the point where the trap would be sprung. She stepped off the rubble and walked out to meet Daven.

She was almost ten feet out into the courtyard before she came out of the shadow. The darkness now extended well past the last wall and, although it was still coming apart over the courtyard, it was clearly advancing. Kiri felt a chill even though she stood in full sunlight. One way or another, everything would be decided in the next few minutes.

Daven was standing squarely, feet solidly planted. His face was pale, but his jaw was set, his eyes steady, and he looked ready for whatever was to come.

Except… Kiri looked down at his sword. Daven flushed slightly and adjusted his grip to the proper position. Kiri nodded approval. There was no point in worrying about his lack of skill. If it came to a fight, they would all be dead anyway.

'Daven, I want you to stay well back, at least ten feet behind me. Stay in the sunlight. Just be ready to help me if I call.' Daven nodded understanding, and Kiri started to turn away, then thought of something else.

'And be prepared to dodge if he casts a spell at us.' Daven's jaw twitched but he nodded again.

From here, Jordan and Jareth were just visible. Jordan lay beside the pile of rotten undead bodies, looking like just another corpse. On the other side of the gate, Jareth was crouched behind, and partially under, the huge dragon's skull.

The men saw her looking at them and they both nodded to show they were ready. She hoped so, because it all depended on them.

They _had_ thought about trying to build a catapult. With all that broken masonry lying around they could have thoroughly pounded the undead. But even though she had found a book in the library about siege engine construction, they simply didn't have the materials or tools.

Their half-built effort still lay in the Tower's main hall. Even if they had managed to complete it, it still would have been too small and too weak to be effective.

And so they had to rely on their trap - two men and a… Kiri's breath caught in her throat. Tarkeros had just appeared at the top of the broken gate. The vampire followed him, the five shadows… and then a whole horde of ghouls swarmed up behind them, spreading up both sides of the rubble slopes.

Was this an attack? Surely the lich would come and gloat at them first. He _had_ to gloat, their whole plan depended on it. But Tarkeros simply stood and looked down on them.

Her role as bait wasn't over yet. She had to get him to come closer. With deliberate bravado, she strode forward into the darkness, stopping just two feet from the edge of the rubble. As if she could still make a fight of it. That should amuse him.

But even as she did so, a worrying thought occurred to her. What if the ghouls on the walls spotted Jordan or Jareth? Without moving her head, she flicked her eyes from side to side, trying to judge the relative positions.

Before she had determined if it would be a problem, Tarkeros moved. He paced forward, and his shadow guards came with him.

_No, no, no!_ The trap wouldn't work on all of them! It couldn't take more than two, and preferably just Tarkeros alone. But there was nothing she could do about it.

And he stopped short anyway, too far away to be caught in the trap. Did he suspect something? _Did he know?_

Kiri glared furiously… and made the mistake of meeting the lich's gaze. Instantly, she was paralysed once more, frozen in place and helpless.

Then, from the ground beneath her, she felt warmth spread up her legs as the Tower's magic once more came to her aid. It was less than she had felt it before, worryingly weak, but it gave her enough strength to break the hold.

And she found herself looking straight into the lich's blazing red eyes. _Blood. Death. Inescapable torment_. It took all of Kiri's discipline to keep from fleeing from the horror of that gaze.

Even so, she couldn't help skittering a few feet back. She swore under her breath and forced herself to stand still, annoyed at her loss of control, even as her heart hammered painfully.

Tarkeros, however, seemed to be amused by her panicked flight, and he came even closer. _Without _his shadows.

Kiri caught her breath, hoping. When the lich stopped, she quickly glanced at the markers, calculated the angles and distances… and swore again. He still wasn't close enough. Although he was inside the reach of the trap, where he stood, it would only knock him over. She had to lure him closer.

She raised her bow, then stopped. No, that wouldn't work. She couldn't think what to do.

Tarkeros spoke.

'And so, you are the last ones left, little maggots.'

It seemed that a deep, booming sound should come from the dark hollow of that hood, but the lich's voice was surprisingly high pitched. It brought to mind the chittering of rats.

His words carried, echoing off the walls. Behind her, Kiri heard Daven gasp. But she ignored the unpleasant prickles that Tarkeros' voice sent down her spine, and went back to judging the angles of the slope.

Just two more steps, she guessed - two or three, anyway, and then the lich would be close enough to be properly caught in the trap. But how to get him to move?

Up on the gate, the vampire suddenly blurred into motion. She shot to the top of the wall and stared down at them. Had she seen something? Whatever the reason for her sudden motion, Tarkeros seemed unconcerned. He spoke again, his harsh voice forcing Kiri to turn her attention back to him.

'Even now, your last refuge crumbles around you.'

The truth of that could not be denied. Kiri looked up and saw that the darkness had intruded even further, reaching halfway across the courtyard. The lich continued.

'But your bravery pleases me, so I shall make you an offer. Cease your obstruction, take a kiss from my lieutenant, and come and stand by my side.' He gestured grandly, as if the magnanimity of his proposal should be obvious.

A kiss? What was he talking about? Kiri looked up to where his lieutenant - the vampire - stood atop the wall. The undead woman was smiling down at her, and at this distance her fangs were clearly visible. Oh. The _Vampire's Kiss_. Allow the vampire to bite her, to suck her blood - turn her into another vampire.

Revolted beyond reason, Kiri spat out 'No! You come and fight me! One on one!'

Tarkeros laughed, and the noise really did sound like rats. 'Oh, I don't think so,' he said.

'Coward!' Kiri shouted at him. And then gasped as the air between them seemed to freeze. Clearly, Tarkeros was no longer amused.

'No,' he grated, 'I am not a coward. I am just being prudent. _Unlike you_. I have given you a chance, I have made you my last offer.'

'You can shove your offer,' Kiri shouted angrily. She was so furious, she wanted to hurl insults at him - but she couldn't come up with any. Then inspiration struck. 'You're nothing but a pile of shit-encrusted bones!'

In a flash, Tarkeros stepped forward and raised his sword. Remembering what that blade could do, Kiri hurled herself aside and a moment later a blue beam shot overhead. Even though it passed almost six feet away from her, Kiri could feel the crackle of its terrible energy.

But it had missed her. It had been far off… No! So far off, it hadn't been aimed at her at all!

Kiri spun around, and breathed a sigh of relief to see that Daven had followed her lead, and had also rolled clear of the attack.

So the beam had hit… the Great Tower. Kiri stared at it, half expecting it to suddenly crumble. Then she blinked and realised that it was undamaged, and in fact, it hadn't even been marked!

She laughed and sprang to her feet, facing Tarkeros again. 'So much for your great magic,' she sneered.

Red eyes glowing balefully beneath his hood, the lich hissed and stepped forward menacingly. _Yes! Perfect!_

'Now!' she shouted, and immediately ropes whipped up from beneath the rubble as Jordan and Jareth, concealed on either side of the gate, jumped up and pulled them taut. The ropes slammed into Tarkeros' back and he was off balance, stumbling forward, his sword flailing ineffectually in the air - staggering towards the courtyard.

The vampire flashed into motion. Surging down from the gate, she sped to help her master. Kiri dropped her bow and drew her sword, but she couldn't attack. One blow wouldn't kill Tarkeros and it might be enough to help him regain his balance. She had to wait, even though the vampire's glaive or the lich's sword could sever the ropes and end this last desperate chance.

'Pull!' she yelled. Tarkeros staggered, reached the edge of the rubble and teetered there. The men gave one last mighty heave, and he lost his balance completely. His sword flew from his grasp and he toppled full length upon the courtyard paving stones.

Kiri blinked, anticipating a sudden flare of white light as the Tower's magic destroyed the lich. But none came.

Behind her, Daven gasped in shock. How could the lich resist the magic? Had the Tower become too weak? Then they saw what had happened.

Tarkeros had thrown himself on top of his shield, and his booted feet still remained on a piece of stone. He wasn't actually touching the courtyard at all.

There was still a chance. He was prone and helpless. Kiri jumped forward, her sword raised to kill. Then came to an abrupt halt as she saw it was too late.

The vampire was there. Her glaive spun, and the ropes parted. She stood at Tarkeros' feet, ready to kill anyone who approached, to defend her master. Their last chance was gone.

Kiri stared in dismay as the vampire knelt and started dragging the lich back to safety. The undead woman looked up at Kiri and snarled at her. _Back off_.

Dismay turned to anger. _No_. Ice-cold rage flooded through Kiri's body. She met the vampire's eyes and stepped forward.

A flicker of surprise showed on the vampire's face, but a moment later she was standing, the Soulthorn Glaive spinning so fast that it formed an almost solid shield over the lich.

Kiri stopped and coolly considered that blurred weapon. Even in her anger, she wasn't fool enough to try to take that on. Perhaps she could just wait until the vampire tired - but do undead get tired? Probably not.

That left one option. She bared her teeth and swung her sword in a short vicious arc. It struck the Glaive with such force that it was nearly jolted from her hands. But the blow deflected the spinning Glaive down, ploughing it into the rubble.

The vampire staggered but quickly came back with a lunge, stabbing at Kiri's stomach. Kiri parried, driving the Glaive aside, then stepping in before the vampire brought the other blade around.

She was inside the reach of the Glaive now, but too close to bring her sword to bear, so drove in with a smash of her pommel at her enemy's face. The vampire dodged, and, with a savage snarl, tried to slam the spiked shaft of the glaive at her.

Kiri ducked under the attack and whipped her sword at the vampire's torso, forcing her to jump back. That was the space Kiri needed. She leaped six feet backwards to land beside the fallen lich, and swung a killing blow at his head.

Tarkeros had managed to get his lower legs back onto the rubble, but, unable to scrabble to safety, he had instead been preparing a spell to fling at her back. Blazing crimson magical light wreathed his outstretched hand, pointed at the spot where Kiri had been a moment ago.

His burning red eyes abruptly widened as he realised his peril. Desperately, he threw up his arm to block her strike, the crimson light blinking out as the spell was lost. But even magic-imbued lich flesh was no match for Kiri's blade.

Tarkeros screeched as the blade shattered his arm and smashed into his skull. Kiri drew back her sword for another blow and saw the lich shake his head. Not dead. But his desperate resistance had only delayed her for a moment. He was now defenceless.

From the corner of her eye, Kiri saw the vampire lunging forward. Too far away. She wouldn't be in time to stop Kiri from removing the lich's skeletal head.

Tarkeros realised that, too.

'Curse you!' he shrieked, and with his remaining hand grabbed for something at his throat. And vanished.

Kiri jerked with surprise, and had to quickly wrench her sword away to avoid smashing it against the stone. As she twisted it aside, it passed through the place Tarkeros had been and she realised he was truly gone, not just invisible.

And with the lich, the unnatural darkness had also gone. Bright noon suddenly flooded the fortress.

A hideous screeching rose from hundreds of undead throats as they immediately began to burn in the sunlight. The vampire cried out, staggered, smoke rising from her skin, then she too grasped at her throat and disappeared.

The other undead had no such escape. Their unnatural flesh scorched and charred. Shadows, ghouls and skeletons all collapsed as their evil was burned away in pure light.

In moments, all that was left of the undead army was a few scattered piles of bones and ashes.

Their ears still ringing with the last dying shrieks, Kiri and the others stared about in amazement.

Was it… victory?


	11. Recovery

**Chapter Twenty Seven - Recovery**

They were cheering, even though there was nothing to cheer about.

The undead army was destroyed, but Tarkeros and the vampire had escaped, the Order was practically wiped out, and the Star Fortress was in ruins.

Still they cheered. Jordan and Jareth, Daven - albeit rather weakly, the ladies atop the Tower. No sound from Bevan, though, Kiri noticed.

She sighed and wearily rubbed her chest. The last few minutes - in fact, the last half-hour - had been quite strenuous, and she suddenly felt exhausted. Even leaning on her sword didn't provide much relief, so she slowly slid to her knees. That felt better, though she'd rather curl up and sleep.

'Kiri, are you alright?' Daven asked from behind her. 'Are you hurt?'

A good question. Kiri wasn't sure, herself. She looked down, but couldn't see or feel any wound, and her armour was unmarked. The ache in her chest did not come from an injury. Nor was it entirely due to fatigue. She felt hollow.

She raised her head and opened her mouth to reply to Daven's question, but saw that he wasn't looking at her. He was looking up the slope, where Jordan and Jareth were running to the top to look out over the liberated fortress.

Except he wasn't really watching them, either. He just seemed to be trying not to meet her gaze.

'Daven? What's wrong?'

He still wouldn't look at her. 'I didn't do anything,' he said, scuffing his boot along the ground. 'You were fighting the lich and the vampire all by yourself and I just stood there.'

His words disconcerted Kiri, abruptly reminding her that he had been waiting for her orders.

'Well,' she began, unsure what to say. She could hardly tell him that she hadn't expected anything from him, that he would have been more of a liability than a help.

'Well, that's what I told you to do - stay back until I called for you. If I had needed help, I would have called you.' Was that true? She'd practically forgotten about him.

And she should have called him. Now that she thought about it, it would have been better if Daven had hacked the lich apart while she held off the vampire. Only it had all happened so fast, she hadn't had time to think about it, she'd just done it.

In any case, it wasn't Daven's fault. If anyone was at fault, she was. She started to say so, but hesitated. It probably wasn't a good idea to admit that she was in the wrong.

Before she could decide what to say, Daven continued. 'I probably couldn't have done anything anyway. I didn't even see through the illusion.'

Kiri blinked. '_Illusion_? What illusion?'

Daven glanced at her, then looked away again. 'I suppose you didn't even see it,' he told her gloomily. 'When the lich fell over, it looked like he teleported back up the slope. I didn't even realise it _was_ an illusion until you chopped his arm off.'

Oh. She hadn't seen any of that. For a moment, she pondered that puzzle, until she thought that she should say something to reassure Daven.

'I guess it's just as well I didn't need you, then,' she told him, trying to sound cheerful. And winced. Even to her own ears, it sounded false.

Daven flinched. 'Yes. Just as well,' he agreed bleakly, and turned to follow Jordan and Jareth up the wall. As he went, he muttered something that sounded like '_I'm useless_.'

Kiri stared after him in dismay. She didn't mean it like _that_. She sighed and rested her forehead on her sword's pommel. But then she realised that she couldn't just let Daven walk off like that. She lifted her head.

'Daven!' she called, and cringed at the sound of her own voice. She hated shouting. Daven was only about five yards away, so when he turned, Kiri continued in a more normal voice.

'It's about experience, Daven. Once you've had a bit more practise, you'll get there.'

Daven's mouth twitched, a minimal smile, but he nodded to her, and looked a bit happier as he resumed his progress up the wall.

Kiri sighed, with relief this time. At last, she'd said something right. But she should be up on the wall with the others, and she started to push herself up, when she saw, just to her left, the remains of Tarkeros' arm.

The bone and desiccated flesh had already turned to dust, but a dull metallic gleam showed amidst the grey powder. Kiri started to reach out for it, then, thinking better of it, used her sword instead.

A slight clink sounded as her sword blade touched it, and a plain steel ring fell out of the pile. It was clearly magical - to Kiri's eyes it glowed a rich magenta hue. Not a colour she would have associated with the lich, it looked far too healthy. And when she picked it up, there was no feeling of evil from it.

So she slipped the glove off her left hand, placed the ring in the middle of her palm and concentrated, trying to feel her way into the magic - the way she had with the Tower.

The first thing she realised was that it wasn't made by or for the lich, or any undead. It seemed to be hundreds of years old, but it had been made by a human mage for some good purpose.

Kiri wasn't sure how she knew that. It was just a feeling, something she sensed in the magic, as if the ring's whole history was there to be read, if only she knew how.

All she got were a few sensations, though, a glimpse of the past, and the knowledge that there were several defensive magics on the ring. She simply didn't know enough about magic to be able to even guess what they actually did, but she had enough information.

The ring wasn't evil, and it had useful magics. That was all she needed to know. She slipped it onto her middle finger and pulled the glove back on over it.

Now she levered herself to her feet, but she still didn't join the others. Tarkeros had dropped something else.

The sword lay a couple of yards away. As Kiri approached, she saw that it had several features she had seen from other items of the Panoply - the hilt was in green and silver, decorated with the Order's eight-pointed star, and a white star sapphire capped the pommel.

But a closer look showed the effects of the lich's handling. The blade was stained and the silver tarnished, and the sapphire had been carved in the shape of a skull.

The magical aura also showed corruption. There were only a few flickers of pure white, and the sword mostly glowed a nasty pale blue - a particular shade Kiri had seen before.

She shot a look up at the Tower - she would have to take another look at that sword in the Cursed Armoury. But for now… She knelt down beside the Panoply sword and looked at it closely.

There were white flashes amidst the blue, suggesting that the corruption wasn't complete. Perhaps she could force it out, like she had with Tarkeros' attempts to pervert the Tower's magic. She reached out for the hilt…

'Hush, just lie there for a moment. You'll be alright.'

Kiri blinked up at Jareth in confusion as he knelt above her. She realised that she was lying flat on the ground, her right arm aching furiously and her stomach churning.

'Jareth? What…' but the priest had started chanting, and Kiri waited for him to finish… what? What was he doing? Healing her, presumably, as a white light began to spread over her, but what had happened?

Daven and Jordan appeared on her other side. 'You just touched the sword and fell over,' Daven told her. He looked pale, and he stood well back from the sword.

Jordan was also eyeing it cautiously. 'Magical swords,' he said thoughtfully. 'Some swords have protections,' he looked at Kiri, 'to prevent enemies using them.'

Of course. In every old tale she had ever read, the powerful magic sword would have defences to stop it falling into the wrong hands. And clearly Tarkeros' magics considered her to be an enemy.

A white glow shone over her eyes for a moment as Jareth finished his prayer, then the light sank into her body, filling her with warmth, strength and health. She took a deep breath, expanding her lungs as far as they would go, and stretched happily. All of her aches and pains had vanished.

'Thank you, Jareth,' she said, and sat up again to look at the sword.

'Ah, I don't think you should try that again,' Jareth told her, but she paid him no attention. Just before she had been blasted backwards, she had felt something in the sword, and she was trying to remember what it was.

There was something very nasty, very _wrong_ in there, but she was fairly sure that the sword's fundamental nature had only been submerged, not destroyed. It should be possible for her to undo the damage. Maybe. She took a breath and grasped the hilt in both hands.

The defences roared up at her again, but she was ready for it this time, and braced herself against it. A painful jarring shock ran up both arms, but that was all.

Before anything else could happen, she picked up the sword and placed the pommel gem on the courtyard stones, hoping and expecting that the Tower's magic would help her again.

It did. The corruption proved to be even more superficial than she had thought, and almost in an instant, the blue light of Tarkeros' influence was wiped away. The sapphire, she noticed, had resumed its proper shape, and the sword shone a clear, bright white once more.

Revealing what lay in the core.

Kiri had felt something wrong in the sword, but only now could she tell what it was. And it was hideous.

Tarkeros had not merely perverted the sword to evil purpose, he had actually added extra powers to it. Kiri remembered the mage Gedrassis saying "_That blue beam was not one of its properties, not in any list I have read_." And now she knew where it had come from.

In imitation of the Soulthorn Glaive, the Panoply sword had been enchanted with death magics to rip out the soul of its victims, killing them instantly.

But Tarkeros had improved on the glaive. The sword did not merely kill. The souls it tore loose were actually _enslaved_.

Stripped of personality, stripped of memory, the souls were reduced to pure energy and bound within the sword. There they were held until the wielder released them in a shaft of utter destruction.

But now, that magic was gone. The souls were no longer bound.

The energy pulsed and _erupted_.

Desperately, Kiri hurled herself backwards. But even as she did so, she realised that she could not possibly get away in time. She remembered that Jareth, Jordan and Daven were all standing there beside her, and she knew they would all die.

The explosion would kill them all, as the soul energy burst loose, and the sword was shattered into flying shards of steel. There was no escape.

Kiri toppled over backward, falling against Jareth's legs and knocking him down as well. The sword, freed from her hold, fell to the ground. Kiri flinched, anticipating the blast that would kill them all.

The sword clattered against the stone, and … lay there. Nothing happened.

Kiri stared, dumbfounded. Beside her, Jareth struggled up and held out his hands towards her, silently offering another healing. She waved him off, muttering 'M'alright.' She couldn't look away from the sword.

Nothing continued to happen.

Kiri suddenly realised that Jordan and Daven were looking at her, and that she must look incredibly foolish, sprawled on the ground with her mouth hanging open.

Blushing pink, she scrambled up onto her knees, and took another look at the sword.

It still just lay there.

'Kiri, what's… What's the matter?' Jordan asked, worried. 'Is something wrong?'

She was trying to work that out. She had _felt_ the energy, it had definitely been exploding out of its confinement. And then what? It had just stopped? The blade shone white, as before… but not quite the same. It looked more intense, and seemed to shimmer, giving the light a pearly lustre.

Finally, she got up the courage to reach out a finger and lightly touch the hilt. The power of it was the first thing she noticed. The sword's magic had clearly become much stronger, though it took her a while to figure out what had happened.

As she felt her way through the magic, she found the souls, three of them, woven into the enchantment. _Woven_, not merely entangled, in a way that enhanced and increased the existing magics.

That was not something that could have happened by chance. And it was not her work. Not something that she _could _have done.

And it was done so neatly, the way the souls fitted into the magic.

If she had not done it, and it was very unlikely that it had just happened spontaneously, then there could only be one possible cause - the Tower.

And if the Tower's magic had indeed done this, then either it was a good deal more powerful and skilful than she had thought, or… Kiri frowned pensively. She now had a very firm idea of just who was guiding the Tower's magic. Although the _how_ was perhaps more of a puzzle.

Kiri picked up the sword and hefted it thoughtfully. And more than a little dubiously. Even if the sword had been restored to Good, the souls were still trapped inside - which surely could not be a good thing.

Not that she had _wanted_ to be killed by an explosion of soul energy…

Jordan interrupted her musing. 'Is it fixed?'

'Hmm. Yes, well, it's fixed.'

Jordan gave a wry smile as he looked at her questioningly. 'You don't sound too sure.'

'It no longer answers to Tarkeros,' she told him, 'And it's not evil…' Her voice trailed off as she regarded the sword.

'What then?' Jordan wanted to know. 'Is there something wrong with it?'

'I'm not sure. It's changed.' She bit her lip, frowning. 'It _should_ be alright.'

'Oh.' The three men joined her in frowning at the sword, until Daven broke the silence.

'Well, why don't you try it out?'

Kiri raised her eyebrows. 'On what?'

'On the undead,' he told her.

'Yes,' Jareth broke in eagerly, 'We saw movement in the ruins. It looks like some of the undead escaped the sunlight.'

'Oh. Really?' Kiri looked down at the sword in her hand, then grinned in savage delight.

'Let's go hunting!'

**Chapter Twenty Eight - Hunting**

'Kiri,' Jordan began, but she wasn't listening.

The glow of the Panoply sword was getting brighter again, and she could sense some more undead nearby, perhaps in the next room.

She had already cleared the first floor of the knights' hall, and now she was just finishing the west wing of the second floor. Quite a few of the undead had escaped back into the ruins - she had killed over two dozen so far - but most of them had been badly burned in the sunlight. Few of them were fit to put up much of a fight, and those that did were quickly vanquished by her bright sword.

There was no point in stealth, since the sword's glow would alert her enemies, but she moved cautiously down the middle of the corridor, wary of ambush.

At the next door she paused and cocked her head, but she felt nothing from the room beyond. That left only the door at the end of the corridor. As she recalled, that was a lounge, a large, many-windowed, sun-filled room, where the ladies liked to spend their afternoons.

It wasn't sun-filled now. All the windows in the halls had been smeared with thick black slime, blocking out the light and turning the rooms into lairs for the undead. As Kiri approached the door, she could see only a faint glow from the windows.

That was quite enough. Kiri had always had very good night-vision, and with the light that the Panoply sword gave off, she could see almost as clearly as daylight. Through the partially open door, she could see overturned and broken furniture, but no undead.

She could sense them, though, more than one, and close. So close, in fact, that they were probably just inside the door, waiting to ambush her as she entered.

Without hesitation, Kiri kicked the door open, then stepped back to see what would happen.

The door hit something soft as it slammed back. So. One to the right, behind the door, and… from above, a scabrous grey ghoul dropped into the doorway, snarling. But its snarl turned to a shriek as the light of the Panoply sword fell upon it, and it stumbled back into the room, shielding its eyes with one arm.

Kiri followed, stepping to the left as she entered, leading with her sword in case another ghoul lurked there.

The blade struck nothing, but a hiss and scrabbling noise above her made her look up. There had been _two_ ghouls above the door. The second now hung from the stone wall by one clawed hand, confused by her side-step even as it had started to leap down on her.

It was trying to climb back up the wall, uttering small cries as it tried to escape the burning light of Kiri's sword. It sounded almost pathetic, but Kiri had no mercy for it.

One of its legs dangled just above Kiri's head, and she immediately swung at it. But even as she did so, the ghoul lost its grip on the wall and fell screeching on top of her.

Her sword, raised to strike, pierced the ghoul through the groin, and, as it fell, the monster's weight drove the sword the full length of its torso before the entire mass of it landed across Kiri's shoulders. It screamed, deafeningly close to Kiri's ear.

Kiri quickly twisted aside, dumping the ghoul to the floor, but not before she took a solid buffet to the side of her head from one flailing arm.

The ghoul was dying, but in its death throes its thrashing arms and legs kept Kiri from retrieving her sword. Worse, its bulk sheathed the sword, blocking the light.

With the light gone, the other ghoul stopped its retreat and sprang forward, snarling once more. And the third ghoul emerged from behind the door. It too charged toward her.

Kiri hurriedly ceased her efforts to tug the Panoply sword free of the dying ghoul and backed off, reaching for another weapon - the short sword for such close-in fighting.

Even as she drew it, though, her right foot slipped as a broken table leg rolled beneath her. She quickly dropped to a crouch to regain her balance, and the ghouls howled eagerly as they saw her go down.

Kiri felt a mass of broken furniture behind her and knew she couldn't retreat any further. She started shifting her weight to dive to her left, out into the room, then stopped as she saw Jordan step through the doorway and strike the third ghoul from behind, a hefty blow across the shoulders that nearly flattened it. Now it was one-on-one.

Kiri half-rose from her crouch and the last ghoul leaped at her, its long clawed arms outstretched to rip at her throat. Kiri ducked down again and drove upward, thrust her sword through the monster's stomach and up into the chest. For the second time, a ghoul shrieked in her ear.

Immediately, she realised her mistake. She had angled her strike to pierce her opponent's heart, but that wouldn't work on the undead. It was a serious wound but far from fatal.

Now the ghoul was sprawled half-over her back, biting at her shoulder and tearing at her ribs. It couldn't get through her armour, but she quickly ducked her head before it could go for her neck.

Then, in an inspired move, Kiri leaned forward, thrust her head between the ghoul's legs and straightened, flipping the monster over her back. It screeched in surprise, and just managed to scratch Kiri's thigh before it crashed over backwards into the pile of furniture.

As she rose, Kiri got a glimpse of Jordan, standing solidly in the doorway, his sword a silver lash as he struck at the ghoul in front of him. The undead monster had a great hole across its back, and its arms were severely gashed. It was still fighting, but Jordan was methodically tearing it apart.

Satisfied that the third ghoul was no threat, Kiri spun about to face her own opponent. It lay sprawled across a ruined table and chairs, entangled in the wreckage and feebly struggling to get up.

Kiri stepped forward, raising her sword, then stopped and reconsidered. There was no need to risk getting so close. She sheathed her short sword and drew the long sword. Then in one swift, well-aimed blow, she split the ghoul's skull in half.

It instantly went limp, but Kiri cut its head off anyway, just to be sure. She turned to see that Jordan had finished off his ghoul as well, and she limped back to the doorway to finally retrieve the Panoply sword.

'Can we stop now?' Jordan asked plaintively as she bent over the ghoul.

Kiri almost missed his words, as a wave of weakness swept through her. She tugged ineffectually at the sword hilt, then braced her foot against the corpse to slowly drag the blade out. A dizzy feeling struck her as she stood up, and she had to support herself with both swords.

'We've been at this for hours, and it's getting dark outside,' Jordan continued as Kiri stood swaying slightly.

Hours? Kiri looked at him in surprise. Well, that would explain why she was feeling so light-headed. As she got a good look at him, she was shocked to see that Jordan was wounded in several places. None of them seemed to be very deep, but his clothes were soaked in blood.

She opened her mouth to apologise, but choked on the words. She coughed, cleared her throat, and tried again. Then stopped as she suddenly thought to check herself for injuries. There was more than one possible explanation for her weakness.

But a quick look-over showed that she was mostly unharmed. Her trousers had a couple of tears, but they were little more than scratches. Her armour had stopped everything, but she was feeling bruised and sore.

The worst pain, though, was in her right ear, twice assaulted by the screams of the undead. Even now, it still rang and throbbed. Kiri sheathed her long sword then pressed her right hand against her ear, trying to ease the ache.

There was a _squish_ as she touched her head. She quickly pulled her hand away and looked at her filthy glove in disgust. She had just smeared black ichor over her face and hair.

Kiri sighed. 'Alright, Jordan. We'll go back now. You'd better get Jareth to take a look at those wounds.'

Jordan gave her a tired smile. 'Let's hope they have dinner waiting for us. But I'll probably fall asleep in my food anyway.'

She smiled and led the way back down the corridor. The Panoply sword surely hadn't been intended for use as a walking stick, but Kiri found she needed it just to move in a straight line.

As she walked, she saw what had happened to the halls. Before, she had been too focussed on hunting the undead to notice the condition of the place, but it was an absolute, sickening mess.

The carpet squelched under her feet, wet with foul, reeking liquid. Paintings and tapestries were torn from the walls and shredded, lying in pieces on the ground. Beautiful porcelain vases lay shattered beside the delicate tables they had stood upon, now smashed to splinters.

All the treasures of the Order had been ruined. Just days ago, Kiri had raged against the wasteful extravagance of it all, but this devastation was appalling. And depressing. Kiri hurried her steps, eager to get out into the fresh air.

As they came to the stairway, the Panoply sword began to glow again. Kiri looked to her right, toward the other rooms of the second floor. She could hear faint movements, and felt the undead stirring.

But she was _much_ too tired to do anything about it now. Perhaps tomorrow she could come back with Daven, so the trainee could get a bit of fighting experience.

Once outside, Kiri cursed softly. She had forgotten that the courtyard was still littered with the bodies of the dead. The sight was even more depressing than the halls, and Kiri looked up instead.

The view above was far more uplifting. Though the fortress now lay in the shadow of the mountains, a few clouds glowed deep red, and the high eastern peaks were gilded by the sunset. Far off in the east, the tiny bright orb of Irris was slowly rising.

Kiri took a deep breath, absorbing the serene beauty of the evening sky. She stretched her shoulders back, then returned her gaze to the earth and began picking her way through the debris of the battlefield. At least they didn't have to worry about traps now - they had all been triggered during the earlier fighting.

Halfway across the courtyard, Kiri stopped abruptly. Jordan, who was following closely behind, bumped into her. He muttered vaguely and tried to go around her until she grabbed his arm to hold him still.

'Jordan, listen! Do you hear that?' She cocked her head toward the south, where she had heard a slight rattling sound. Jordan, who seemed to be half-asleep, just shook his head.

'Listen. There it is again.' A clattering, sliding sound as something, a _large_ something, climbed up the far side of the rubble of the second gate.

'Something's coming. Get ready to run.' Her urgent tone seemed to penetrate Jordan's drowsiness. He came alert and drew his sword.

'What do you think it is?' he asked her.

'Probably one of the undead,' she said, holding the Panoply sword ready. 'We'll see in a minute.'

It soon came into sight, a shaggy white mass appearing at the top of the slope. Kiri stared at it, trying to make out what it was, as it bobbed up and down and rose up higher.

Then its shoulders came into view, clothed in dark red which shone with gold embroidery, and then a hand clutching a gnarled staff.

Kiri let out her breath and lowered her sword. 'It's Gedrassis.'

'Gedrassis?' Jordan asked.

'The mage,' Kiri told him.

'Oh.' Jordan looked puzzled, as if he was trying to remember something. But then he just shrugged, sheathed his sword and turned to continue his way across the courtyard.

Kiri looked after him. She hoped he would be able to make it to the Tower without falling on his face.

Turning back, she saw that Gedrassis had reached the top. He had seen her and was waving. She waved back, then waited as he cautiously picked his way down towards her.

But he was so slow, carefully inching down the rubble, leaning on his staff whenever the stones shifted beneath his feet. Kiri soon became tired of waiting for him. There was no present danger, he could make his own way across the courtyard without her help. She turned and followed after Jordan.

She soon caught up with him and together they climbed up the easy slope of the last gate. There they stopped in surprise, for a small group of armour-clad people stood waiting on the steps of the Tower.

'Who are they?' Jordan asked, frowning.

'I don't…' She saw that some of the people wore plate armour and some were in chainmail, and she caught her breath. 'Could they be _survivors_?'

'Survivors?' Jordan said, and looked back over his shoulder. 'That can't be right.'

Kiri also looked back to the shredded corpses which were strewn around the courtyard. She knew what Jordan meant. It surely wasn't possible for anyone to survive that. But who else could the strangers be?

She saw that Gedrassis was fairly close now. It seemed he could move faster on the flat ground. But she didn't want to wait for him to laboriously ascend the slope. She went down to help him along.

'Ah, Salkirimarillias!' he called as she approached. 'I'm glad to see you looking so well.' He seemed to be affecting an old man's wheezy, breathless tone. Or maybe he really was out of breath from his exertions.

She nodded in reply, but stopped short when she saw he was staring at her chest. She glared angrily at him. After all this time, after everything she had been through, she was not going to tolerate people ogling her body, ever again!

The sword twitched in her hand as her fists tightened. Gedrassis instantly switched his gaze to it. His eyes became even wider, and his mouth opened in an expression of delight.

Kiri frowned at him in bemusement. He was ogling her sword? She glanced down at the sword, then at her chest, and flushed with embarrassment as she realised. Even in the dim light of dusk, and smeared with blood, dirt and filth, her armour was still clearly a beautiful shining suit of Elven chainmail. The mage hadn't been leering at her at all, he'd been admiring her armour!

'The Panoply sword…' Gedrassis breathed in wonder. 'May I have a look at it?'

Her cheeks still red, which she hoped Gedrassis couldn't see, Kiri nodded. 'Uh, yes, sure. But later. We really should be getting inside.'

'Ah, of course. It is getting late. Please, lead the way.'

Thankfully, the mage found the smoothed path easier to climb and he didn't need much help.

As they reached the top, Kiri asked him, 'So, what are you doing here?' And frowned. _What are you doing here?_ That surely wasn't the right way to phrase it.

But Gedrassis didn't seem to mind. Before she could think of a more polite way to ask her question, he answered. 'One of the knights brought word that the undead had been defeated. As soon as I heard that, I came up here as quickly as I could.'

He was gazing upwards as he spoke, his eyes fixed on the pale white bulk of the Great Tower looming above them. He wasn't looking where he was walking, and he stumbled on a loose rock. Only Kiri's quick grab of his arm kept him from falling down.

Gedrassis straightened. 'Thank you,' he said, then stopped sharply, as he caught sight of the people on the Tower steps. 'Oh, dear.'

'What?' Kiri looked from him to the others. 'What's the matter?'

He smiled wanly at her. 'I'm afraid the knights don't like me very much. They may not let me in.'

Kiri snorted softly. 'Don't worry about that. Come on.'

As they approached, four of the strangers, the ones wearing plate armour, came forward to meet them. Jordan sat on the steps, being tended to by Jareth. Daven was there as well, along with one of the ladies, the brunette with the little girl. There was no sign of Bevan or the blonde.

The four knights didn't look happy to see them. Their eyes flicked from Kiri to Gedrassis and back again, and they looked even less pleased. Finally they stopped, and a short, powerfully built man with dark skin and hair stepped forward.

'Are you Salkirimarillias?' he asked abruptly.

'Yes. Who are you? Where did you come from?' Kiri knew her words sounded rude, but this time she didn't care. She didn't much like the attitude of these knights.

'We are knights of the Order, from Venkenka,' the man replied with a minuscule bow. 'I am Morten, and this is Telfur, Dannire and Roven.'

The other three knights also gave little bows as Morten introduced them, but Kiri didn't quite follow which name went with each man.

Morten continued. 'We were detailed to form an aid post at the outer gates, to give medical assistance to those who were injured by the traps. When the undead came, we managed to get out of the fortress.' He frowned darkly. '_Most_ of us got out.'

Kiri raised her eyebrows. 'So, how many of you made it?' she asked, peering around him at the others still standing on the steps.

'There are just the four of us,' Morten said, 'And six men-at-arms.' Including one woman, Kiri saw. A tall, slender blonde woman who noticed Kiri's gaze and nodded in response.

Four knights. With Jordan and Bevan, that made a total of six survivors - out of some one hundred and seventy that there had been just ten days ago.

Morten cleared his throat, drawing Kiri's attention again. 'Jordan tells us that you are the one responsible for the defeat of the undead.'

Kiri looked at him. If he knew what had happened, why was he scowling at her?

'It was all of us,' she told him, 'We all helped.' Then she looked around. 'Except for Bevan, of course. Is he still skulking inside?'

The four knights exchanged a look, with one of them muttering a quiet, 'Told you.'

Morten turned back to Kiri, and coughed uncomfortably. 'Uh, no. Bevan has already left. He said he had to escort the lady Maitry to a place of safety.' He coughed again. 'He, uh. He told a… somewhat _different_ story.'

Kiri raised her eyebrows. She could imagine what sort of story Bevan would tell. At least these men did not seem to be deceived, though she wondered how far his tale would spread before the truth caught up.

But she didn't want to discuss it there, out in the open courtyard, with night rapidly approaching.

'Look, can we talk about this inside?' she asked. 'I really need some food. And a bath. And some sleep.'

Morten shot a hard glare at Gedrassis, who immediately tried to look amiable and inoffensive, ducking his head and giving a vague smile.

The knight snorted, clearly not fooled. 'Alright, but you keep your nose to yourself, mage.' He turned and led the way back to the Tower.

As Gedrassis followed, he spoke to Kiri, just loud enough for the knights to hear. 'I did offer my services to Marshal Argan, but he refused. Quite rude he was, too.'

Kiri looked at him. 'And his rudeness probably saved your life,' she told him quietly.

The mage looked at her with some surprise and fell silent, but then became more lively as they approached the Great Tower, looking about with interest.

There was a bustle as everyone turned to enter the Tower, with Gedrassis getting in the way as he stopped to eagerly examine everything he passed.

Kiri hung back to let the others go first, and looked up at the stone mass of the Great Tower. She was remembering her earlier speculations about just what, and who, was behind the magic.

Once everyone else had passed within, Kiri walked up the steps and stopped in the open doorway.

She placed one hand against the stone, and said softly, 'Hello, Kershel.'

Soft laughter sounded inside her head.


	12. Gedrassis

**Chapter Twenty Nine - Gedrassis**

Kiri eventually got tired of staring at the ceiling so, reluctantly, she rolled out of bed. She grimaced as she stood and stretched. The few hours of sleep she'd managed to get had barely taken the edge off her aches, and she was still tired.

But since she couldn't sleep, there was no point in just lying there, sore muscles or not. Especially since the bed was just bare boards - mattress, linen and blankets had long since been removed.

There was no light in the room, but she could still see dimly. She had always had good night-vision, but it had recently become much better. Part of her Elven heritage presumably, though she had no idea why it was manifesting now. Maybe from the magic she had been exposed to over the past few days?

Whatever it came from, at least it let her find her way around the dark room. She donned the cloak she had been using as a blanket, then grabbed her satchel, slinging it over her shoulder as she made for the door.

Once out in the corridor, though, she stopped, unsure of where to go. There was no point in going outside, but everyone else was still asleep, and she could faintly hear snores coming from the other rooms.

She would have liked to speak to the female man-at-arms who had come in last night. They hadn't been introduced, but Kiri had heard the others call her Sarriren, which sounded vaguely Elvish. Not that she looked Elven, apart from her height and pale hair. And she was quite slender, too, compared to Marly…

Suddenly Kiri had no desire to see the woman at all. She turned and strode away from the bedrooms, out into the Great Hall, and headed for the stairs to the upper levels.

As she touched the stone wall, she stopped again, looking to the main entrance, remembering her earlier attempts to speak to Kershel, the spirit within the Tower. Perhaps she could try to talk to him again.

Although she still wasn't entirely sure that it was indeed Kershel. She hadn't actually managed to speak to him. She _had_ gotten responses from deep within the stone, but they had been dim and echoing, and quite unintelligible. Kiri hadn't even been able to tell if it was Iskeni or some other language entirely.

There was no reason to believe she would have better success now. And something about the idea gave her an uneasy, queasy feeling. It was horribly unnatural for a human spirit to be sealed into the stone of the Tower. What sort of person would do that to himself?

It could wait. She would have other opportunities. She turned and continued up the stairs.

The lights were still on in the armoury. At first Kiri thought they had simply been left open. After all, it didn't really matter if the lights were left - the magic would keep shining whether the shutters were open or not, and they would never run out of fuel.

But as she approached the sliver of light shining through the partly open doorway, she heard sounds from within, rustlings and mutterings. There was someone in there. Who would be up at that hour of night? Well, apart from her?

Cautiously, she pushed the door open and peered in to the brightly lit room. And gave a soft laugh. She should have known. Gedrassis sat hunched over the table that held the Panoply - the sword, the armour, and the pieces of the axe - mumbling to himself as he scribbled in a large book.

'I thought you were going to keep your nose to yourself,' Kiri said as she stepped into the room.

Gedrassis looked up, blinking, then smiled when he saw her. 'I don't recall agreeing to any such thing,' he smirked. Kiri couldn't help returning his impish smile.

Although he did look rather strange with his white hair and long shaggy beard. It was simply bizarre. She stopped smiling and frowned at him.

'Is something wrong?'

Kiri opened her mouth, trying to think of the right words. 'What's the idea of… the, uh, Ancient Wizard look? I really don't think you're fooling anyone.'

Gedrassis looked at her, blinked, then suddenly leaned forward, scrutinising her as closely as he had the Panoply. 'You don't see me as old?' he demanded.

'What? You're _not_ old. You can't be more than twenty five.' Kiri twitched, uncomfortable under his intensity.

He pursed his lips and leaned back again, still watching her. 'Tell me what you see when I do this,' he said, reaching under his mass of long hair.

Kiri looked at him as he seemed to be fumbling with something at the back of his neck. As she watched, a slight shimmer passed over his features, and when it was gone… he looked exactly the same.

His eyebrows went up when she told him that. 'Just a slight shimmer?' He held up the necklace that he had removed. 'It's only a small illusion, but still… Of course, it's not unheard of for Elves to see through illusions, but you're only part-Elven, quarter-blood, is that right?'

She nodded, feeling rather self-conscious. 'My mother's half Elven.' Trying to change the subject from herself, she took the necklace from his hand. A thin gold chain held a tiny round pendant, set with a single, minute ruby. And it really was a _small_ illusion - the glow of magic was barely visible behind the shine of gold.

'Where did you get this? Does it do anything else?' she asked.

'My master made it for me. And no, that's all it does. It's supposed to make me look more mature.' He grinned ruefully. 'People expect competent mages to look old and wise. They don't tend to offer jobs to young, boyish ones.'

Kiri smiled at his tone. She knew that, despite his relative youth, he was a skilful spellcaster. And not just from her father's tales of his fireballs. Last night, after all the fighting, she had thought her clothes were ruined, being so caked with blood and filth, not to mention ripped and torn.

But Gedrassis, with one quick spell, had completely cleansed all of her garments - while she was still wearing them. Then, with another spell, her clothes were mended, leaving them as good as new.

She had been impressed, but Gedrassis had declared it '_merely a few cantrips'_. Maybe it had been nothing to him, but in Kiri's opinion, such useful, practical magic was every bit as impressive as fireballs.

With a sudden whimsy, Kiri quickly clasped the necklace around her own neck. Would it make her look like an old man? She looked at her hand, but of course saw nothing different.

Grinning, she looked to see how Gedrassis reacted to her new appearance, but was shocked to see him flinch and look away.

'That's… very disturbing,' he said weakly. 'Could you stop it now, please?' Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.

Alarmed, Kiri immediately removed the necklace. 'What's wrong? What did you see?' she demanded.

Gedrassis took the necklace from her. 'You looked old,' he said, slowly. 'Like an old Elf.'

Kiri was puzzled. What was so shocking about that?

He saw her confusion and explained. 'I suppose you've never seen an old Elf?' She shook her head. 'I have,' he said, 'Once. It was very… disturbing. An ancient Elf can be well over a thousand years old.' She still looked confused, and he continued.

'That's a long time, of course, everyone knows that. But I don't think anyone understands just _how_ long it is.' He looked up and met her eyes. 'I don't think you _can_ understand how long a thousand years is… until you see it looking back at you.'

Disturbed by that image, Kiri was silent as he replaced the necklace around his neck.

'So,' she asked carefully, 'Does it help? I mean, do people take you seriously, _more_ seriously, when you wear that?'

'Oh, yes,' Gedrassis looked up, his eyes twinkling again. 'When I left school, I found it impossible to gain a decent position. Everyone thought I was barely more than an apprentice. So I went to my master and he came up with this solution.'

'He gave me four things: A potion to turn my hair and beard into a shaggy white mane;' Gedrassis said, ruffling the wild mass of it, 'The necklace;' he touched his throat where the pendant lay, 'This magnificent robe;' as he stroked his hand down the rich embroidery, 'And, of course, a suitably baroque staff.' He nodded to where the gnarled staff lay against the table.

'Put it all together and you get a very impressive wizard indeed. Just a week later, I landed a most prestigious position - Court Magician to the Duke of Orntarl.'

'Oh,' Kiri said, impressed, 'That is…' She stopped then. 'But you left? Why aren't you still there, if it was so good?'

'Ah. Well.' Gedrassis frowned, hesitated. 'It _was_ a very prestigious position, but…' He stopped, was silent for a moment, then sighed and smiled crookedly at her. 'Would you like to hear the story of my life?'

'I come from northern Veyaroshi, from the town of Simmifoy.' Veyaroshi again? Would this be another story like Jordan's? But Gedrassis's next words completely removed that suspicion.

'My family is the Aldreavers, a merchant house which trades throughout the northlands. You may have heard of them.'

Kiri nodded, surprised. She _had_ heard of them. In fact, her father had done business with them - or at least with their agents. As traders go, the Aldreavers were neither particularly large, nor especially wealthy, but they were widely respected.

'So your name really is Gedrassis then?' Kiri asked, and immediately regretted it as Gedrassis looked up and grinned at her.

'Oh, yes,' he smiled, 'Did you doubt it?'

'Well, yes,' she admitted, blushing sightly.

'I guess it does sound strange in these parts, but it's customary among… a certain class of Veyaroshi society to give their children names from the Imperial Age.' He shrugged. 'It could be worse. My eldest sister is named for an Eighth Century Imperial princess - Obelabeljouai.'

He laughed at Kiri's horrified expression. 'Actually, it's not that bad. Everyone just calls her Obe.'

'Anyway,' he continued, 'I showed an early interest in, and aptitude for, magic. Eager to see another mage in the family, my parents apprenticed me to my great-uncle, the family's chief mage. I was five.'

'Five?' Kiri exclaimed. 'Isn't that awfully young to begin an apprenticeship?'

'Well, yes, it is, but I loved it. I find magic to be endlessly fascinating and I want to learn as much as I can. Most apprentices don't even start until the age of twelve, but by that time I had _finished_ my apprenticeship and started on more advanced skills.'

'I was still too young to begin the usual mage's duties for the family - guarding caravans, placing protections on cargoes and so forth - and so, considering my precocious talent, it was decided that the family would pay for me to get an academic education.'

'Now, in Veyaroshi that would be the Academy at Ontikarathi, but that's extremely difficult, and expensive, to get into - especially for commoners. So instead I was sent to the Bryssan Royal School of Magic, at Korndis - just as good, and much, much cheaper. Not as much status, of course, but my family takes a more pragmatic attitude.'

'After eight years there, at the age of twenty, I was more than capable of working as a family mage. In fact, I knew far more than my uncle. True, he had many practical spells specific to the family business, but…' He paused, and seemed lost in thought for a time.

'Most mages are like that, you know. Even though I am little more than a beginner in the magical arts…' Kiri made a soft noise of disbelief, and he looked up at her.

'It's true,' he told her, 'I've barely scratched the surface of all there is to know. I may know more than most, but look at these.' He waved his hand over the pieces of the Panoply on the table. 'To create things like this, well, I wouldn't even know where to begin. I can't even make a basic magical dagger.'

'You can't?' Kiri asked. 'I thought you made a living from making magic items.'

'Oh, those,' Gedrassis said dismissively. 'No, they're not real magic items. The little lanterns and that kind of thing, they just have a single simple spell on them. They're not permanent. No, I can make those, and potions - I'm quite good at potions, _when_ I can get the ingredients, _and_ afford them,' he added drily.

'Anything more complicated, though, is completely beyond me. Even this,' he said, pulling out his necklace again, 'I couldn't make this. And yet there would be less than a hundred people in all of the northlands who are more advanced than I am.'

Kiri regarded him with surprise. 'Really? Then where… where do all the magic swords come from? The magic armour, and all that?'

Gedrassis smiled wryly. '_All_ the magic swords? Magic swords aren't common, you know. In fact, they're quite rare. There may be a lot of them here in the Fortress, but that is far from usual. And they would have been collected over hundreds of years. Some may even be thousands of years old, from the Empire or even before.'

'That one you're wearing, for instance,' he said, peering at Kiri's longsword. 'That's around four hundred and fifty years old, made by the mage Cambrin who worked for the Bryssan royal court. Cambrin only made a half dozen swords, for the royal family and the army officers. That one is one of his better pieces, probably for a senior officer.'

Kiri looked down at her sword. It just looked like a sword to her. 'How can you tell all that?'

The mage smiled. 'I have studied such things, and I know what to look for. The style, the design, the ornamentation… I recognise these things.' He stopped and looked blank. 'What was I talking about again?'

'Oh, yes,' he said before Kiri could remind him. 'My uncle. Craftsmen.'

'My uncle is typical of the average magician. They view magic as no more than a craft. They finish their apprenticeships, learn a few basic spells they can sell - things like charms to clear vermin, or wards to deter burglars, that kind of thing - then they spend the rest of their lives just peddling their meagre skills, no different from a cobbler or a barber.'

'Of course, my uncle knew more than just the basics, but he was still just a craftsman. And my family wanted me to return to the business and become just like him. I couldn't.'

'As I said, I am fascinated by magic. I want to know more, I want to know _everything_. The life of a trader mage would be simply intolerable to me. But without money of my own, I had to obtain patronage. Quite rich patronage, in fact, for the level of study I wished to undertake.'

'That's why I was so pleased to gain employment with the Duke.' He fell silent.

'So,' Kiri finally prompted him, 'Was it not what you expected?'

'No, it was what I expected - at first. My duties were light and within my capabilities. A few illusions and light-shows to entertain a banquet crowd, a couple of potions of healing and the like, and protection spells around the keep. Nothing onerous, and most of my time was free to engage in my own study.'

'But I had never met any nobles before, and I didn't much care for the experience. Of course, I had heard stories - everyone complains about the nobility, but then, they complain about merchants too, in much the same way - arrogant, selfish, greedy…'

'_Arrogant_ doesn't even begin to describe the Duke and his cronies. I found them quite intolerable, even for the small amount of time I was expected to spend in their presence. And the thought that my services were helping such people… Well, I soon decided that I would have to leave.'

'And yet, that was not so easy. My contract was for five years, and breaking it would entail a substantial penalty, which would require me to sell most, if not all, of my books and equipment. Also, the Duke is one of the most powerful people in the kingdom, and no-one would employ me after I had incurred his displeasure.'

'Where could I go? With no chance of obtaining another position, I had few options. I couldn't return to either my family or the school - I couldn't risk bringing the Duke's anger down on them. And so I stayed for nearly a year - far longer than I would have wished.'

'Eventually, however, I came across a book in the Duke's library, called _The History of the Order of the Star_. And I learned about Kershel.'

'I had never even heard of him until I went to Korndis, and even then all I knew was that he was a mage who had helped build the Star Fortress and assembled the Panoply. When I learned how much more there was to him…' Gedrassis shook his head.

'Without doubt, Kershel was the greatest wizard of this age of the world. And yet his achievements are almost forgotten. It's incredible, the things he did - the fortress _and_ the road over the pass. I don't think there have been such magical structures since the destruction of the Imperial Palace at Iskenodren.'

'As for the Panoply, Kershel took some of the most powerful magic items in the world, and made them even _more_ powerful. This, for example,' he said, stroking one finger along the edge of the Panoply armour. 'Do you know what this is? It's the Living Silver.'

He was looking at the armour, so didn't see Kiri's eyes go wide and her mouth drop open. Gedrassis continued.

'The very first magic item ever made in this world, and supposedly imbued with left-over magic from the Creation. The most powerful wizard in each age has attempted to improve on it, with Kershel's work the ultimate touch. I doubt there is any finer armour in the entire world.'

Kiri could only stare at the legendary armour, while Gedrassis continued to dreamily stroke it with one finger. Eventually, though, she had to take notice of the dullness, and remembered the deadly hole.

'But… it's broken.'

Gedrassis came out of his reverie with a start, looked blank for a moment, before glancing down at the silver shards in front of him. 'Oh, the Axe. Yes, that's a dreadful shame. What's worse is that almost nothing is known about it. It's obviously Dwarven work, though, and I believe this is adamantium. It's surprising that Tarkeros managed to break it. I wonder how he did it.'

Kiri realised that she hadn't told him about the sword, and quickly informed him of all that she had found out, or had guessed, about the cataclysmic blue beams.

'_Souls_?' he exclaimed eagerly. 'I know souls contain a great deal of energy, but that's…' He quickly reached for the sword. 'And there are still three souls within it? Amazing!' His gaze was almost hungry as he feverishly ran his hands over the blade.

'Yes, but… Wait. Wait a minute,' Kiri said, as she finally realised something odd about his earlier words. 'The Axe… is broken.'

'Well, yes.' Gedrassis looked quizzically at her, obviously wondering what she was on about.

'And the Armour… is also broken. Yes?'

'What? No! No, this is the Living Silver. Certainly, it's damaged, but I don't think anything less than a god could actually destroy it. It repairs itself, from anything, any damage. No, it's simply dormant, waiting for its new owner to put it on.'

Kiri licked her lips, staring at the Armour. _Its new owner..._ She well remembered how it had looked, shining green and silver in the sunlight…

Gedrassis looked from her to the Armour, then smiled and pushed the pieces of plate towards her. She needed no second invitation. Quickly she stripped off her satchel, cloak, sword belt and chainmail.

She was baffled, though, when she found that there was no way to attach the Armour - no straps, clips or laces. But when she put the breastplate on, it stayed in position by itself. And when she set the backplate in place, the two pieces joined together seamlessly. As they did so, the silver began once more to shine, and the small hole in the chest quickly closed over and disappeared.

Kiri gazed down at it, smiling in wonder at its beauty, until Gedrassis held out a piece of the leg armour to her. Once she had all of the armour in place, only her head, hands and feet were uncovered.

It was so light she barely felt it, and it fit her like a second skin. When she tried a few moves she found that, although composed of seemingly rigid plates, the Armour still allowed her full range of movement, not impeding her at all.

She turned back to Gedrassis, grinning widely, but her smile faded a little when she saw him offering the next part of the Panoply, the Sword. It almost seemed as if he wanted her to claim it as her own. But she couldn't. Even though she had taken her swords and chainmail from the fallen Fortress, the Panoply was a different matter. It belonged to the Order, and she couldn't just take it.

There was no reason, though, why she couldn't try it out for a while, and she had already used the Sword anyway. She took the proffered hilt and replaced her own long sword in the scabbard, then donned the swordbelt, satchel and cloak once more.

Kiri looked down at the sword's hilt, green and silver like the Armour, and rubbed her thumb over the pommel gem.

'I'm afraid the Panoply is reduced to two pieces, now that the Axe is no more.' Gedrassis' words brought her out of her trance, and she remembered something.

'There's another piece. Come on.'

As she lead the way into the Cursed Armoury, Kiri heard Gedrassis gasp. She turned to see the mage gazing about, eyes wide, his face a mixture of awe and delight, like a child in a toyshop.

As he started drifting towards the cabinets, though, she quickly moved to stop him. 'You really do need to keep your nose to yourself in here,' she told him. 'This is the Cursed Armoury, everything in here is dangerous.'

'Oh, really?' He looked around, more cautiously, but no less fascinated. 'Oh, well. What's this piece you mentioned?'

'It's the Mace, over here,' she said, pulling out the keys as she went. 'It's been locked up in here since it became unstable.'

'The Rod of Storms,' Gedrassis breathed reverently. 'No wonder it became unstable. Kershel may have overreached himself with that one.'

Kiri had unlocked the grille, but froze with her hand on the Mace's grip, as if she had just taken hold of a live snake. She swivelled her head to look at the mage and he smiled encouragingly.

'Relax. I'm sure it wasn't really made by the Stormlord, despite what the legends say.'

Feeling far from reassured, Kiri shakily withdrew the ancient mace. Now that she knew it was the holy weapon of a Chaos god, she was rather uncertain of continuing. But if it worked…

Very, _very_ carefully, she knelt and lowered the jewelled butt of the rod to the stone floor. Then, just as she had with the Sword, she felt her way into the magic.

And was immediately overwhelmed. She found herself caught within a roaring maelstrom of searing energies. Fire, acid, poison and lightning all exploded about her, tearing and burning with lethal force. Instinctively, she flinched away, trying to pull herself free. Before she could truly panic, though, the power within the rod smoothed and became calm, swirling around her in more orderly spirals.

Breathing heavily, she drew her mind out of the magic… and sagged with relief to find that she was unharmed. Those fires had been all too realistic.

There was a _clank_, and she realised that she had dropped the Mace. She started to stiffen, but no eruption of power followed. The Mace was pacified.

Kiri rose to her feet, to see Gedrassis watching her with bewilderment. 'What did you just do?'

'I, well, I fixed the Mace.'

'Yes, I can see that. But how? What did you do? You're not a mage, you didn't cast any spells…'

She fiddled with the Mace in her hands. 'Um, I don't really know how I do it. I can feel the magic, and I just sort of… reach into it, and it comes right. That's what I did with the Sword, and the Fortress itself when Tarkeros was trying to corrupt it.'

Gedrassis' frown only deepened. He clearly didn't feel at all enlightened by her answer.

Kiri shrugged. She couldn't give him any better answers. Instead, she turned her attention to how she was going to attach the Mace to her swordbelt. Eventually, after removing her short sword, and attaching a loop of braided leather cord to the belt, she managed to make a workable arrangement.

She looked up to find Gedrassis still frowning at her. But his expression cleared as he took in the sight of the three pieces of the Panoply arrayed around her. 'I would dearly love to see the Panoply in action.'

Kiri smiled and cocked her head. 'Well, there are still some undead out there.'

The mage smiled back at her.


	13. Succession

**Chapter Thirty - Magic**

The night sky was overcast and neither stars nor moons could be seen. From the feel of the air, though, Kiri judged that there was still over an hour before dawn. Plenty of time for some undead hunting.

'Wait a moment,' Gedrassis stopped her. 'I'm not an Elf. I can't see in the dark.'

Kiri could see as clearly as if Mistheros, the greater moon, was full and overhead - her Elven heritage at work again. She hadn't thought about how the mage was going to manage.

He seemed to be well prepared, though, as he muttered a quick spell and his eyes began to glow faintly red. He looked around the courtyard with his new vision. 'Oh, that's a shame. I wanted to examine that.'

Kiri turned to see what he was looking at, and saw that the huge dragon skull had crumbled into dust. There was also a white glow coming from the heap of rubble in the gateway and she quickly padded across to investigate.

The pale light emanated from just below the surface, at the top of the pile of debris. As Kiri approached, another spark of light appeared, high up on the slope of the broken wall. Just as quickly it vanished again, but others replaced it. On both sides of the gate, spots and coils of pale white light flared and faded beneath the stone.

Kiri took a step back, and reached for her sword. The lights didn't _seem_ to be a threat, but she wasn't keen to approach until she could make out what they were. Gedrassis stumbled up behind her, and peered past her shoulder.

'What are you looking at?' he whispered.

'There are lights in the stone,' she replied.

'Lights?' he queried, peering more intently. 'I don't see anything. Where do you… Oh!' he exclaimed, 'That's right. You can see magic. It's the magic in the walls that you're seeing.'

'Oh, of course,' Kiri said, annoyed that she hadn't figured that out by herself. 'But what's it doing? Why is it sparking like that?'

The mage stepped up to the edge of the slope and scraped away the loose stone with the tip of his staff. 'It's healing.'

Healing? Kiri moved up beside him, then knelt to look more closely. Very slowly, but quite definitely, the broken edges of the wall were smoothing out and filling up. As she watched, a crack smoothly closed, as if the stone was flowing like mud.

She reached out a finger to prod it, and found that it was indeed solid. Then it prodded back, as the wall bulged up beneath her hand, and she quickly pulled her finger back.

'The magic will restore the walls to how they should be,' Gedrassis explained. 'I guess they couldn't while the lich was trying to subvert it, but now…'

Kiri looked about with a renewed sense of hope. 'You mean all this damage will be repaired? The gates, the buildings, everything?'

Gedrassis frowned. 'I don't… I'm not sure, but I don't think the buildings will be fixed. Just the walls and the gates. Oh, and just the original walls - that middle wall is a later addition.'

'And it won't fix the gatehouses. They are more recent too. In fact, they're probably the cause of most of this damage. They were built on top of the original smaller gatehouses, and when they came down, the whole lot collapsed. I doubt Tarkeros could have done so much damage to the walls if there hadn't been so much inert unmagical stone sitting on top.'

'Oh, well at least that's something,' Kiri said doubtfully. 'But then, the Order…'

'The Order's pretty much finished,' Gedrassis interrupted. 'I don't see how they can recover from this. But the Fortress is still intact, and maybe the next inhabitants will appreciate it for the marvel that it is.'

Kiri glanced sideways at him. 'Like you, perhaps?'

'Oh, perhaps,' he replied nonchalantly, but his eyes gleamed as he looked around the courtyard. 'Can't you just imagine this as a school of wizardry?'

She snorted. 'Not with undead in the basements. Come on, we've got work to do.'

Drawing her sword - or rather, the Panoply sword, it wasn't hers - she climbed down to the centre courtyard, where she hoped to find undead out in the open. Entering the buildings at night, when the undead were at their strongest, probably wasn't a very good idea. She stopped and looked around, trying to feel where the monsters lurked.

Unfortunately, her senses didn't seem to be specific enough to give her that information. But as she turned, she noticed that the Sword glowed slightly brighter when she moved to her right, towards the Knights' Hall.

With the Sword raised and ready, Kiri stepped carefully through the rubble, Gedrassis following closely behind. He seemed to find navigating the hazards somewhat harder, as he stumbled occasionally, and once hissed in pain when he inadvertently kicked a rock.

Kiri ignored his noises, her senses focussed forward as she followed the glowing Sword. For all her care, though, she never saw the ghoul until she nearly stepped on it.

It was lying amidst a group of corpses, and had looked to be no more than another decaying body. But when the Sword's light fell on it, the monster rose with a screech, directly in front of her.

Wide-eyed, Kiri stumbled back, off-balance and unprepared. She couldn't strike - the ghoul was too close, there was no room. She swung anyway, a clumsy swat with the blade.

The ghoul had no such restraints. It lashed out at her before it had fully risen, its claws gouging at her hip, then again with the same arm - and Kiri saw that it only had one arm.

In fact, in the light of the Sword, the monster looked almost pathetic. Its huge red and black eyes stared out of its scabrous face, purple lips drawn back in a desperate grimace, seemingly terrified.

Kiri saw all of this in a flash, just as the flat of her sword slapped the creature across the top of its head. Such a weak blow shouldn't even have hurt, but the ghoul _screamed_, a sound of unspeakable pain and fear. Apparently the light alone was enough to do harm, severe harm.

It spun to flee, revealing a white mark seared into its skull where the Sword had touched. But it didn't get very far. Without thought, Kiri raised her blade again and smashed it down through the ghoul's shoulder.

Behind her, Gedrassis barked a spell, and three dark-blue balls of energy arced around her to strike the ghoul in the back. But they weren't needed, it was already dead. Kiri's last strike had almost cut it in half, but as it fell she chopped its head off anyway. It was always wise to be certain where undead were concerned.

Twisting to look at her hip, she saw that the ghoul's attack had left three shallow scrapes across her armour, but they were already closing up - no, they were already closed. Even as she watched, the marks vanished and the Panoply armour was once again unblemished.

She turned to Gedrassis. 'I didn't even feel that!' she told him with a grin. He just shrugged.

'Well, you are wearing the finest armour in the world. Even that chainmail you were wearing earlier is the best Elven work I have ever seen. You're probably the best-equipped novice fighter in history.'

Kiri stopped dead as a sudden realisation struck her. _Novice fighter_. 'You… haven't spoken to anyone here, have you?'

Gedrassis turned to look at her. 'No, nothing of any consequence. Why?'

'They don't know who I am,' Kiri admitted, slightly ashamed.

The mage looked blank for a moment, then understood. 'They think you're an Elf.' She nodded. 'And you haven't told them otherwise.' Kiri shook her head, colouring slightly.

'Ah,' Gedrassis said simply. Then, 'I guess I'm not the only one who has had trouble being taken seriously.'

Kiri looked up, surprised and relieved that he understood and accepted so readily.

'Reverend Torreyns was telling me about the troubles you've had,' he continued. 'How you couldn't control your magic, and how it brought you all sorts of unwelcome attention.'

'My magic?' Kiri repeated, confused. It wasn't magic that caused the _unwelcome attention_, it was all those filthy perverts in town. And she didn't _have_ any magic anyway. What was he talking about?

'Yes, your _Allure_ spell, or whatever it is. Torreyns said that your mother used that spell effectively, that she could turn an entire tavern full of patrons into drooling idiots. A useful skill for a bard.' He glanced at her. 'Not so good for a young girl, though, I imagine.'

Kiri gasped, feeling as though she had been punched in the stomach. Her legs shook and she just managed to sit down on a lump of rock before she collapsed. 'My… _magic_?' she whispered.

Gedrassis was surprised at her reaction. 'Well, yes. Elves are magical creatures, and you…' He paused. 'You didn't know, did you?' he said softly.

Kiri shook her head, absolutely stunned. 'I… I had no idea. Magic?'

The mage crouched down beside her and clasped her trembling hands. 'Yes, magic. Didn't your mother tell you? Or your father?'

'Mama… was long gone. And Papa knew nothing. No-one did. But… Torreyns knew? And who else knew?' She looked up, a sudden wave of anger overcoming numb dismay. 'How many people knew, and did nothing?'

Gedrassis was silent, considering her question. 'Perhaps… perhaps they thought it was none of their business. Or perhaps… I got the impression that Reverend Torreyns, at least, thought you were doing it deliberately.'

'Deliberately!' Angrily, Kiri pulled her hands from his grasp and shot to her feet. 'How could anyone think I would…' But even as she said it, she was remembering. She knew that some of her friends had been envious of the attention she got. And there were many people who would use physical beauty to their advantage. Hadn't her own father urged her to do just that?

And if people hadn't realised how miserable she had been, well, people tend not to notice what they don't want to see. Or they were thinking that it was just rewards for a manipulative little minx.

'But I'm not an Elf,' she protested. She _wasn't_ an Elf, she shouldn't _have_ any magic!

'Not… technically, no,' the mage replied slowly. 'When I first saw you, in the temple, I thought you were a half-Elf, strongly favouring the Elven side. But now… you could easily pass as a full-blood Elf. You've changed, your Elven blood has become more dominant. Why, I couldn't say, but it's clear you're now more Elf than human.'

She looked at him in disbelief. There was _no way_ she could pass as a pure-blood Elf! Her eyes were too rounded, her ears not pointed enough…

She pulled her left ear free of her hair to show him… and felt it long and sharply pointed. Abruptly pulling it forward, she could just see it out of the corner of her eye - a sharp angular point. She stood there dumbly, fixed on the alien shape.

Gedrassis gave a snort of laughter. No doubt she looked funny, pulling her ear in front of her face, but she didn't feel any amusement. She let go of her ear and turned to face the mage.

'So…' she started, but then couldn't think what to say. Her mind was in turmoil, she couldn't think straight. Nearly everything she had ever believed about herself had just been blown away.

'I'm an Elf?' she said finally, weakly.

Gedrassis waggled his head. 'Apparently - effectively - yes.'

'So, what magics do Elves have, what do _I_ have?'

He stroked his beard, considering. 'This isn't something I know a lot about, but as I understand it… Whereas most races are merely able to _use_ magic, Elves have magic as part of their very being. This allows them to perform magical feats without having to learn magic.'

'Now, generally this is quite minor magic - resistance to some spells, the ability to see magic, and so forth - but occasionally one will have magical powers equal to a true wizard - what we call a sorcerer.'

'You…' Gedrassis considered her for a moment. 'You seem to have _all_ the usual minor abilities, which is astonishing by itself, for _anyone_ not full-blooded - but you may well have something more. What you did with the Mace, I'm really not sure…' He trailed off, still looking thoughtfully at her.

'You think I might be a sorcerer?' she asked incredulously.

'Well, you're obviously not one _yet_, but you're only sixteen. For an Elf, that's barely out of infancy. You may well develop more powers as you get older.'

'Oh.' She wasn't sure if that was good or bad. Extra abilities were always welcome, but she didn't know how to control the magics she already had - magics she hadn't even been aware of until a few minutes ago!

Her magic. An _Allure_ spell? Had that really been the cause of all that torment, her loneliness and despair? She abruptly sat down again, as the full impact hit her.

_Oh Mama, why didn't you tell me, teach me how to use it?_ But she knew the answer even as the question ran through her mind. With her one-quarter Elven blood, Kiri simply shouldn't have had such powers. The idea probably never even occurred to Tora.

And that left Kiri alone, confused…

* * *

**Chapter Thirty One - Succession**

Kiri finally looked up, to see Gedrassis regarding her sympathetically. 'Do you want to go back?' he asked her gently.

'No. No, we came out here for a purpose. Let's just get on with it.' She gathered up her sword and heaved herself to her feet. There were still undead nearby, she realised as she once more turned her senses outward. Over the second gate, in the outer courtyard.

As she approached the second wall, Kiri saw that Gedrassis was right - this wall was not glowing like the others, and there was no sign of regrowth. She realised something else as well - the undead in the outer courtyard were either very numerous or abnormally powerful. There was a prickling down her neck and, looking down, she saw that the Sword was glowing brighter than ever. She quickly sheathed it, lest the light give them away.

Gedrassis joined her, and they had a quick conference. If the undead was a powerful one, it would be best to leave it until daylight, and get some of the other fighters to help. But there was a way to deal with many weak undead at once.

'Use the Mace,' Gedrassis told her. 'You can use it to cast an _Elemental Storm_ spell. It forms a big storm cloud.'

Kiri looked blankly at him, then down at the Mace. 'How do I do that?'

'Well, you'll need the command phrase - and no, I don't know what it is, but we can soon find out. Hold out the Mace for me.'

She did so, and the mage put one hand on it and cast a spell. There was a brief small flash of dark-blue light, and then information flooded into Kiri's mind.

In an instant, she glimpsed the Mace's entire history, from its making by a priest of Kallas Stormlord, how it was used by the Chaos Brute in the Wars of Appearance, then… But that wasn't relevant right now. The important thing was that she had the command phrase.

Very carefully, Kiri crawled to the top of the next gate. Gedrassis followed, moving more quietly than she had expected from him. They peered cautiously past an outcrop of broken rock. But the courtyard seemed to be empty.

There was rubble, there were bodies, but there was no sign of anything moving. Yet Kiri could still feel the prickling, the feeling of something evil nearby.

A light breeze rose and blew through the Fortress. Kiri glanced up at the sky to see a slight rose tint in the east. Dawn was not far off. Any undead out in the open would have to move soon.

Still nothing stirred. Kiri settled her weight, prepared to wait as long as necessary, then remembered to check behind her. She looked back, then forward again. Still nothing. They waited.

Without warning, a ghoul leaped up. From amongst the rubble, halfway across the courtyard, it raced furiously for the shelter of the men-at-arms' hall. But it didn't reach it.

A huge black shape rose from the ruin of the servants' hall. It shot towards the fleeing ghoul with astonishing speed, catching it before it got even halfway to the other hall. One long black arm punched straight through the ghoul's torso, then the vast shadowy beast lowered its head, distended its jaw and bit off the ghoul's head.

Another ghoul leaped from the rubble, heading for the stables, trying to make it to safety while the great predator was distracted with its prey. But it too was quickly run down and slaughtered in a similar manner to the first.

'What is that thing?' Gedrassis whispered in Kiri's ear. 'I thought you'd killed all the greater undead.'

Kiri could only shake her head. She had no idea. It looked a bit like a shadow - black, translucent and vicious. But it was quite unlike any of the other shadows she had seen, either the small ones or those that had served as Tarkeros' guard.

This thing was easily as large as those big ones, but had no tail. Its head was bigger, with a great fanged mouth. But the most obvious difference was that this monster had a series of big sharp spikes running down its back. And it was clearly much more powerful.

'We've got to kill it,' Kiri hissed. 'If it gets loose and attacks Silverdale…'

The mage looked at her in alarm. 'Not just the two of us, surely!'

Kiri shook her head. 'No, of course not, not right now… ' She stopped. The shadow was sniffing the air, its great head swinging towards them. 'Or maybe, _right now_!' as the creature leaped into motion, sprinting straight at them.

Kiri jumped to her feet. Pointing the Mace, she shouted the command phrase, '_Kal anorn_!' Instantly, a dazzling silver-blue light erupted where she was pointing, and with a clap of thunder, exploded into a cloud of lightning.

Kiri gasped, clapping a hand over her burning eyes. She hadn't thought of what form the cloud would take, and had been looking directly at it. She blinked furiously, rubbing her eyes as they watered, trying to clear her vision. From beside her, she heard Gedrassis chanting another spell.

As her eyes finally cleared, she looked up in time to see a fireball roar past her. Following its path, she saw it strike the giant shadow squarely in the chest.

Despite its great size and speed the undead creature was obviously also very agile. It had almost managed to dodge the _Elemental Storm_, just brushing the edge. Even that brief contact was enough, though, and it had been blasted with electricity. Now, as the fireball exploded in its face, it was driven back into the storm.

The beast howled - an oddly insubstantial sound that nonetheless _hurt_ - the noise pierced Kiri's body like a thousand needles. Kiri doubled up, coughed, clutching at her chest, trying to ease the ache as pain tore through her lungs. But she couldn't take the time, the beast would attack any moment! She forced herself upright, still gasping for breath, and squinted against the glare of lightning.

She did so only just in time, as the shadow tore itself free of the cloud and leaped towards her. As Kiri tried to focus on the looming black shape, she realised her mistake - the weapon she was holding, the Mace, was one she was totally unfamiliar with. But she had no time to draw the Sword.

Barely ducking a clawed swipe, Kiri swung the Mace two-handed. It hit nothing. The shadowy form was hard to see and she had misjudged the distance. Worse, her clumsy attack had almost spun her around, leaving her entire right side open to attack.

The giant shadow didn't fail to take advantage of the opening. Kiri only just saw the claws before they smashed into her side, flinging her into the air. She landed on rubble and slid head-first down the slope. Winded and wheezing, she couldn't rise, leaving her helpless as the shadow pounced after her.

Her right arm wouldn't move, apparently not broken, but certainly badly bruised. And it didn't matter anyway - she had lost her weapon. The tearing pain in her side, and the trickle of hot blood down her back told her that the Armour had been breached. There was nothing she could do as the undead beast crouched over her.

With a savage rake, it tore at Kiri's face. The force of the blow rocked her head to the side, but strangely, she felt no pain. The beast growled in apparent frustration and attacked again, swiping and clawing at her face. And yet, for all the viciousness of the assault, it seemed to be having no effect. Kiri barely even felt it.

Whatever was protecting her, it had given her sufficient respite to get her breath back. But she was still weaponless, and with the shadow practically on top of her, she could barely move, not enough to reach the Sword. She tried to kick at the monster, to no avail, except to tear the wound in her side even further. Kiri gasped in pain, clutching at the injury as a wave of black rolled over her vision.

Then three bursts of dark blue flashed in the darkness. Gedrassis had cast another spell, striking the shadow in the back. The impact of the magic missiles was visible right through the translucent body of the undead. It gave a high-pitched roar, almost squeaking, and Kiri laughed even through her pain.

She twisted away and wrenched her sword from its scabbard. Her right arm still ached, but it worked sufficiently to make a swipe at the shadow. As her vision cleared, she saw that the shadow had half turned away from her, towards Gedrassis. The sword-strike caught it in the back of its thigh, and it howled again, arcing its head to the sky in its agony.

Kiri scrambled to her feet, the sword flaring brightly before her, as the undead beast once more turned to stalk her. It was more hesitant now, cautious of the bright blade, but it did not flee from it as the lesser undead had done. There were wounds on it, though, visible now as the Sword's light illuminated it - patches of clotted darkness on its arms, and across its back. And yet it did not seem hampered by its injuries as it swayed from side to side, hungrily seeking a way past Kiri's guard.

Gedrassis cried out again, and another flash of magic struck the giant shadow. It growled angrily and leaped back, twisting to go after the mage. Kiri jumped after it at once - she had to protect Gedrassis! With no armour and only a staff which she was sure held no magic, he had little hope of fighting off an attack.

But she had misjudged her enemy. It was smarter than she had thought, and its move towards Gedrassis had simply been a ruse. The beast spun back and smashed her down with two clawed hands. The blow did her no harm, though, and she leaped up and struck back, stabbing the shadow in the abdomen.

Before she could withdraw her weapon, it landed another massive blow across her shoulders, sending her flying once more. Kiri crashed heavily into the wall, and stars flashed in her eyes as her head struck the stone. She slid down the wall, barely conscious but desperately aware of the need to keep her sword up.

As the shadow loomed over her, she instinctively lunged. The sword stuck in the beast's chest, stuck there as the creature again slammed Kiri against the wall, and the sword's light went out as it was torn from her grasp.

Kiri dimly realised that her protection was gone - the last two blows had hurt. The shadow realised it too, with a slash across her face opening up a huge gash. The undead beast roared in victory, and punched its claws straight through Kiri's armour.

Kiri's mouth opened wide in a silent scream. The shadow had torn into her intestines, the pain beyond anything she had ever felt, ever even imagined. Her vision went black.

Amidst the darkness, a red light bloomed. It rushed towards her, then exploded, and she distantly felt the fireball wash over her.

'Kiri!' She blinked as Gedrassis shook her back to consciousness. She wished he hadn't. It would be so much easier to just drift away. But he wouldn't let her, and shook her again.

'It's all right!' he told her. 'The armour will heal you.'

At his words, her brain started working again. It wasn't over, she didn't need to die. 'Po… shun,' she gurgled. 'In… bag.'

'Potion?' Gedrassis repeated. 'You don't need it. Just rest. The armour will heal you.'

If she had been able, Kiri would have cursed him. He was going to keep her awake and aware as her body was slowly and painfully knitted back together. Damn him anyway, she'd get the potion herself.

Her hand twitched and flopped and weakly slapped against her satchel. She could barely even feel her fingers and had no idea where the buckles were, but she kept trying. It was better than thinking about the mess and pain in her gut.

'Oh, all right,' Gedrassis relented. 'Here, let me get it.' He pushed her hand aside and rummaged in her bag, finally finding the right potion. He had to hold it to her lips as she drank.

At first, all Kiri felt was the coolness of the liquid, then gasped as a pungent odour seared through her sinuses. The potion hit her stomach and the magic got to work. Kiri hissed as she felt the magic burning through her mangled intestines, healing and mending the damage.

She sighed, the pain of her wounds subsided. There was still an ache in her guts, like the worst stomach-ache ever. She knew that she was still seriously injured, but she was feeling better with each passing moment. So she just lay there, watching the sky as it grew light.

'Here's your sword, and the mace,' Gedrassis told her. Kiri blinked. She hadn't even realised that he had left her side. She sat up and looked around. There was no sign of the shadow.

'It just evaporated,' the mage explained. 'When it died, its body just… evaporated. I'm sure it wasn't an ordinary shadow. It wasn't like anything I've ever heard of.'

That was true, but what bothered Kiri more was that she was certain it hadn't been in the Fortress earlier. So where had the thing come from? No answer came to her, so she reluctantly pushed herself to her feet, with a bit of help from Gedrassis.

Their eagerness to explore had completely disappeared, and so they turned back towards the Great Tower. However, as they passed the knights' training hall, Kiri drifted over to see if it too was infested with undead.

She felt nothing, so they did a quick sweep through. There was actually one puny zombie lurking in a cupboard, which Kiri quickly dispatched, but the hall was otherwise clear. So that was one, just another three buildings to go.

The gate into the Tower courtyard had regenerated further, now nearly two feet high. They had to actually climb over it, which would be difficult once it was fully restored. As they walked down the other side, the sun came fully up, and the Great Tower glowed in the apricot-tinged light.

There was no-one in the lower rooms when they entered, so they went upstairs, expecting to find everyone at breakfast. As indeed they were, all gathered together in the large briefing room. All except the five knights who were nowhere to be seen.

The others were seated around one of the tables, but they were only picking at the meal before them. Oddly enough, they were all completely silent, even the little girl, and they kept glancing towards the door to the library.

They looked around as Kiri and Gedrassis entered.

'What's happening?' Kiri asked. 'Where are the others?' No-one replied, they just sat there blinking at her.

It was the blonde noblewoman who finally answered. 'The knights are in there,' she smiled, nodding towards the library. 'Now that the undead are gone, they're deciding who should be the new commander.' She looked amused about something.

Of course, Kiri thought glumly. The future. Rebuilding, and all of that. It would soon be time for her to leave, since the knights didn't accept women… Or maybe not, maybe the new Order would be different…

But her musings were cut short, by an explosion of anger from the mage beside her.

'What?' Gedrassis cried in outrage. 'What do they think they're doing? There aren't enough knights left to make a decent adventuring company - and they're arguing about who gets to play Commander?'

They all looked at him in surprise. For the short time that Kiri had known him, the mage had seemed to be good-natured and even-tempered. But now he was openly angry - and she had no idea why. Before she could ask him what he was so upset about, one of the men-at-arms spoke up.

'It's not as bad as you might think,' he said. 'There are two men-at-arms left at each chapter-house, and a sergeant at Venkenka - as well as two knights who were sick, and weren't able to come with us. I know that's still not very much, but I think we'll be able to rebuild.'

Gedrassis threw up his hands. 'Sure!' he cried. 'Go ahead and rebuild! And the next lot of knights will be a bunch of bone-headed fools no different from the last!' He scowled around at them all, then turned to stomp out of the room. Kiri stared after him, still stunned by his unexpected outburst.

But before he left the room, the library door opened, and the knights emerged from their conference. Jordan led the group, looking rather pleased with himself for some reason, as he smiled at the assembled group.

Then he saw Kiri. He stopped smiling. His jaw dropped and his eyes grew wide.

Kiri cringed. She had almost forgotten that she was wearing the Panoply, and now, just when they had chosen a new commander, she turned up looking as if she intended to walk off with it. Thief, or at best, arrogant pretender, and the knights were already prejudiced against both women and Elves. She had just confirmed all their worst suspicions.

But Jordan's words surprised her. 'You fixed them,' he breathed. 'The Armour, _and_ the Mace.'

She blinked, thoroughly confused. That certainly wasn't what she was expecting from him. And it wasn't actually true, she hadn't fixed the Armour, and the Mace… She wasn't really sure what she had done to that.

It finally occurred to her that she should say something, to correct Jordan's mistake, but he had already turned to the other knights.

'Do you see?' he asked them. 'Doesn't this just prove it?'

Morten gazed at her levelly, then slowly nodded. The others were less reserved, with one - Rannire, if she remembered correctly - openly grinning at her.

Now she was even more confused. Not only were they not upset, they actually seemed pleased with her for some reason, and apparently not just about the Panoply.

Morten stepped forward and addressed her. 'As the most senior surviving member of the Order of the Star, it is my honour to make known the next Commander.'

This at least Kiri understood. It was time to give up the Panoply. She pulled the Mace from her swordbelt and unclipped the scabbard. But Morten stopped her as she tried to pass them to him. 'Wait,' he said, holding up one hand. He looked past her, to where Gedrassis was standing and watching with a glower.

'I heard what you said before, about bone-headed fools. And you're right, as Jordan is right. The Order has made many mistakes and it's time to start rectifying them.'

The knight turned back to her. 'The prohibition against mages, women and Elves is unjustified, we are all satisfied of that. And you have proven yourself to have all of the qualities we require.'

'Salkirimarillias, I ask you to take up the mantle of Knight Commander of the Order of the Star.'

Kiri gaped stupidly at Morten, stunned by his words. 'But… But don't you want it?' she asked automatically, holding out the Panoply weapons to him.

Morten frowned. 'I cannot. I am half-barbarian. It wouldn't be… politically acceptable.'

'But you…' Then she hesitated as the proposition finally sank in. They wanted her to be Commander. _Her_, as Knight Commander of the Order of the Star.

It would be all of her dreams come true, everything she ever desired. Not just a knight, but Knight Commander. With loyal friends and comrades, adventure and heroism. She could restore the Order to what it used to be, what it was supposed to be - a beacon of hope and justice throughout the northlands.

She could do it. It wouldn't be easy, but with time and enthusiasm…

Except… could she? It wasn't that straight-forward. There was so much that needed to be done, and she had so little experience… And the reality hit her. _They thought they were offering the position to an Elven warrior_.

None of them knew the truth about her. Only Gedrassis knew who she really was. She turned to him.

And was shocked to see that he was smiling and nodding at her. He knew… and he still wanted her to do it? She looked at the others. They too were looking at her eagerly, hopefully.

Couldn't she just do it? Did they have to know? But of course they did. She couldn't keep living a lie, and they would find out the truth soon enough, anyway. Everyone in Silverdale would know who she was, know that she was an impostor.

She had to tell them the truth.

Kiri closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and told them.

'I'm not who you think I am…'


	14. Commander

**Chapter Thirty One - Communication**

The top three floors of the Great Tower were designed for the accommodation of the knights. It was, of course, all stripped bare now, but with nowhere else to go, Kiri ended up wandering around the third floor. More particularly, she found herself drawn to the rooms at the front of the third floor – the suite of rooms once inhabited by the Knight Commander of the Order of the Star.

There wasn't a great deal of difference between those rooms and the rest of the tower – the same white stone, the same high ceilings, the same practical design. It was true that the upper floors had windows, which the first two floors did not, but the windows were merely narrow, transparent parts of the wall.

The Commander's suite consisted of three large bedrooms, three offices, a small conference room, a lounge and a bathroom. Presumably, it was designed for the three founders of the Order, Asharron, Tirrell and Kershel. In fact, it had probably been Kershel himself who had designed it, if the stories were true.

Kiri trailed her hand around the walls of the empty rooms. These chambers had seen over a thousand years of history, but there was no sign of it. There was no dust, no wear, not even any scuff marks. The Tower seemed almost newly-made, just standing ready for her to move in and start building up the Order, the same as the founders had done so long ago.

And it could have been hers, too. Well, not really, not realistically, but she'd had the chance. Even though she had been offered the position, she hated to think what would have happened if she had just accepted without telling them the truth. But even so, she couldn't help wishing that she could have accepted, that she could have become Commander.

She leaned against the wall and let herself daydream for a while, imagining how it could have been. _People of goodwill from all across the northlands would flock to her banner. She would build up the Order of the Star better than ever before. Evil would flee from her knights, and she would preside over a new age of peace and prosperity. The Arrel Plains, no, the whole of the northlands would be made new, and even the lands of the Empire…_

Kiri snorted, breaking from her reverie. Rebuilding the Iskeni Empire, no less! She couldn't even rebuild the Order. Her daydream had been absurdly sketchy, only serving to reinforce her lack of skills. She wasn't even a proper fighter!

No, she couldn't rebuild the Order, but perhaps she could rebuild herself. Having been invited to become the Commander, surely they wouldn't deny her the chance to become a knight. It wasn't exactly the fulfilment of her dreams - there had been too much darkness, horror and death. But perhaps now she could find her place in the world.

Except… what would it be like? She had a better idea, now, of what it meant to be a fighter. It would be hard work, _very_ hard work, especially since there were so few knights left. And following orders. She had always preferred doing her own thing, but, as a knight, she would have to do what she was told. She stared off into the distance, envisaging a lifetime of blood-soaked drudgery stretching ahead of her…

It would be better than being a _cleaner!_ She shook off her melancholy and stood up straight. Brooding about the future wouldn't make it any better.

But she would have to give up the Panoply. She looked down and stroked a hand over the beautiful armour, rubbed the pommel of the sword, the butt of the mace. But perhaps she could earn them back. She could work her way up to Commander, the proper way of doing things.

She looked around the Commander's suite. No, it was not to be hers today, but maybe in the future… She smiled to herself, feeling her future take on credible shape.

As she turned to leave the room, a thought ran through her mind, _You belong here_.

Kiri froze. The thought had been _in_ her mind, but it hadn't been _her_ thought. She looked around cautiously, but there was no-one and nothing to be seen.

Another thought came._ Salkirimarillias, Knight Commander of the Order of the Star. _

Kiri's eyes popped open and her mouth went round as she realised what was happening. She placed her hand on the wall. 'Kershel? You _can_ talk?'

The thought came back clearly._ Yes. Kiri, you must become Commander. _

'What? I must? Wait, wait a moment. How come you're talking now? You weren't before.' Kiri's mind reeled, not just because she was talking to Kershel, one of the founders from so long ago, but also from his bizarre declaration. She _had _to be Commander?

_ I have been alone for six hundred years. It has taken time to remember how to speak again. That is why I need you. _

'You need _me?_ What for?'

_ I… am a tower. I cannot speak. I cannot move. I have no magic. The magic of the Tower is bound up in its protections and I cannot use it. But you… you are an Elf. I can draw on your magical nature - to speak, to… to affect the world. _

Kiri blinked, absorbing this information. 'So it _was_ you, that fixed the Sword, and the Mace, and fought off the lich. But then … what was that when I first came into the Tower? Was that you, that… peaceful feeling?'

_ You needed peace. You were suicidal. I took away your pain. _

'What? No, I wasn't. Well, I was, but that was the day before.' Now Kiri was becoming confused. What did Kershel mean? What was he talking about?

_ Listen, Kiri. This is important. You must become Commander. I need you, and you need me. _

'No, you listen to me,' She told him angrily. 'I've already turned down their offer, and I can't do it anyway. I'm only sixteen.'

_ In truth, you did not turn it down. You merely told them who you were. You did not refuse the offer, and neither did they withdraw it. _

Kiri frowned round at the walls with a mixture of confusion, irritation and anger. It was hard to argue with someone who wasn't even physically present. Except as a white stone wall. 'What difference does that make? Now they know that I'm sixteen, they won't want me as Commander. I don't have the skills. And I don't want to be Commander.'

_ They will accept you, I will persuade them to. And I know you are young. I will help you, as I have been helping you. _

'Helping me? How have you been helping me?' Kiri felt a prickle of fear. She wasn't sure what, but there was something very disturbing about Kershel's words.

_ I know that you are not a natural leader, and that you have little experience. But I have over a thousand years of experience and so I have shared it with you. I have used it to help you. _

Kiri stared at the wall, her fear rising with his ominous words. Kershel's cryptic revelations were starting to make sense. A horrible sense. 'What have you done?' she demanded. Even as she spoke, she was backing towards the door.

_ You're nothing but a pile of shit-encrusted bones! Remember that? The critical words at the critical moment. They were _my _words. You were speechless, so I gave you the words that you needed. And I have done so ever since you entered the Tower. Commands, training schedules, plans - do you think you could have done it without me? I gave you what you needed to win, and I can do that in the future, too. _

'You… _used_ me! Used me like a puppet!'

_ You would have died without me…_ Kershel argued.

Kiri didn't listen. The roar of panic filled her mind. She had to get away! She spun about and raced for the door.

_** STOP! **_Kershel's shout hit Kiri like a blow, stunning her. She stumbled and fell, only her outflung hands keeping her from slamming face-first into the wall, but she couldn't stop herself from sliding to the floor. Panting desperately, Kiri tried to stand again but all her strength seemed to be gone.

_ Kiri, listen to me!_ Kershel insisted. _ Have you forgotten Tarkeros? He certainly has not forgotten you. He will hunt you down, wherever you go. _

Kiri ignored him. Unable to stand, she tried to crawl away.

_ You humiliated him and destroyed his army. He cannot let that go unanswered. He will kill you and anyone who gets in his way… such as your father. _

His words finally reached Kiri's panicked mind. 'My father?'

_ Only in the Order will you be safe from Tarkeros - and only the Order can give you the power to defeat him. Otherwise you will simply be prey - you and everyone around you. _

She tiredly sank to the floor, putting her back against the wall. It was true. She had almost forgotten about the lich. She didn't want to spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder, waiting for him to come to kill her. And the only way to prevent that was to kill him first. Which, as Kershel had just pointed out, she could only do as a member of the Order.

'So I have to become a knight. I accept that. That's what I intended to do, anyway. But I won't be your puppet. I _don't_ have to be Commander.'

_ Perhaps… or perhaps not. Right now, the knights are discussing possible candidates for Commander. Their first choice at the moment is Marshal Peracor. _

'Marshal Peracor! He retired twenty years ago! He must be nearly seventy by now.'

_ Yes, he is old, conservative. Not likely to make changes… like allowing women to become knights. _ Kershel suggested pointedly.

'Surely he will realise…' Kiri trailed off. It was all too likely that a hide-bound old man wouldn't recognise the need to make changes. Commander Vayrlan hadn't seen it, either. She bit her lip, thinking it over.

_ There is little time. The knights may make a decision at any moment. _ Kershel prodded her.

'All right! I'll do it. But they probably won't accept me anyway.'

_ They will. I will persuade them. _

'You'll talk to them?'

_ No. I can only talk to you, or another Elf, or other magical creature. But I can influence them. _

'You'll… manipulate them? Like you manipulated me! You can't do that!'

_ Time is wasting. What is your answer? _

'How can you do that? Messing with peoples' minds! That's _evil!_'

_No, it is not. But if you wish to discuss the nature of Good and Evil, I suggest you wait until another time. Now choose, before it is too late._

Kiri silently seethed at Kershel's arrogance and bullying manner. But there was no alternative, nothing she could think of. Becoming Commander seemed to be her only way out. Then something occurred to her, a way to make it less onerous…

_That is acceptable._ Kershel declared.

'Wha?' Kiri was startled that he had been eavesdropping on her thoughts, and glared at the walls.

_Quickly, now. You must inform them of your decision._

With one last glare, Kiri turned and made her way back down to the second floor. She ignored everyone still sitting around in the briefing room and pushed open the library doors. The knights, all seated around a table, looked up as she entered. Before anyone else could speak, she made her announcement.

'I have considered your offer and have decided to accept. I shall become your Commander.' They all looked surprised. Kiri was more annoyed, as she realised that Kershel was influencing her choice of words. _Leave me alone_, she thought at him, _I can do this myself!_

She felt him withdraw, and then realised that he had been suppressing her nervousness as it rushed back. Before she could panic, she plunged on. 'I will be Commander for a year, to rebuild the Order, just until the Order is secure again…' She realised that she was perilously close to saying too much, to starting to babble, so clamped her mouth shut and waited for their response.

She didn't need to wonder, she could feel what they were thinking. Or rather, what they were being _made_ to think. Kershel's influence was marvellously subtle. There was no push to get them to accept, but a gentle overlay and then leading of their emotions.

First, an acknowledgment of their surprise, which then turned to understanding as they realised what she was proposing. There was relief, then, pleased relief at the hard decision being made, which finally became thankful acceptance. Grateful smiles appeared on their faces.

Morten held out a little longer, as he seemed to think it through, but eventually he too smiled and nodded his acceptance.

It was all very smooth and skilfully done. Kiri hated it.

**Chapter Thirty Two - Commander**

Kiri's first act as Commander was to have breakfast. As she chewed her way through a plate of ham, eggs and toast, she thought through all that would need to be done. Now that she was in charge, there was much to be organised. Annoyingly, Kershel kept pushing ideas into her head. Even more annoyingly, he had many good suggestions, most of which she hadn't considered.

However, it all amounted to three basic goals: Repair the damage to the fortress; Recruit new knights and men-at-arms; Hunt down the lich Tarkeros. Which was easier said than done.

She finally pushed her plate aside and looked up to see Daven loitering by the library door. 'Daven,' she called, and he turned to her. 'Could you get everyone up here? We need to discuss what comes next.' He nodded and trotted off.

_You should prepare an agenda for the meeting_. Kershel told her. _It will look more professional_.

Kiri frowned in irritation, but he was probably right. She remembered that she had parchment, pen and ink in her satchel and pulled them out to write up some notes. Just as she got set up, Morten walked in, with one of the other knights – Telfur, she thought – and he came over to speak to her.

'We were just getting ready to scour out the remaining undead,' he said. 'We really need to get that done right away.'

Kiri nodded in acknowledgment, but there was time for that later, it was still early morning. 'There are some things we need to sort out first,' she told him. He frowned slightly, but turned away to take a seat at the table. Telfur sat beside him, and the two began talking in low voices as Kiri resumed her writing.

She finally managed to put together something resembling an agenda, and looked up to see that everyone was present, the last few taking their seats. However, the brunette lady still hung back at the door, the little girl at her side as always. They looked unsure as to whether they were supposed to be there, so Kiri beckoned them over. The two of them had stayed around this long, they deserved to know what was going to happen next.

Jordan placed a chair at the head of the table and grinned at her. Kiri smiled back at him as she gathered up her things, to move to her new place. She sat and waited for the others to settle. Then gulped, as they all turned to look expectantly at her.

_Would you like some help?_ Kershel asked archly.

Kiri ignored him, forced back her trepidation, and, with a glance at her agenda, started the meeting. 'All right, I've called you here to, to make sure that you all know what's going on.' She realised that she was speaking too fast, stumbling over her words. She took a deep breath, and forced herself to slow down.

'The first thing is that I'm going to be Commander for one year, as an interim measure while we reform the Order. And that _reform_ is in every sense of the word, since there are a lot of things that need to be changed.' She stopped and frowned down at her agenda, wondering if Kershel was influencing her speech again. It annoyed her that she couldn't be sure, but she had to keep going.

'One change I'm making is that men-at-arms may become knights.' She looked up to see the woman Sarriren give a huge smile. Most of the other men-at-arms also appeared delighted, but one man seemed dubious, and another simply shook his head. Well, she had expected that – becoming a knight would entail extra responsibilities, which not everyone would want.

Morten frowned. 'Are you sure that's a good idea, Kiri? Commander,' he corrected himself. 'They don't have the training.'

'They are at least experienced soldiers, which is what we need, so they should get the best equipment and the higher rank. It's better than, a _lot_ better than relying on green trainees.' Kiri noticed Daven flush as she said that and sighed. She didn't want to upset him again, but it was true – an army of boys like him would be a disaster.

'We'll need to undertake a lot of recruitment anyway, but all recruits will go through basic training first – no-one will become a knight-trainee until they have shown that they are up to standard.' She hoped that Daven wouldn't think that this was aimed at him as well. 'Oh, and another thing – we won't use the term men-at-arms any more. Instead, they'll simply be soldiers of the Order.'

That was a minor change, and no-one objected. Sarriren, though, looked pleased – _men-at-arms_ didn't specifically exclude women, but it wasn't exactly inclusive either.

'I also want to recruit priests, into the Order itself, rather than as helpers.'

Jareth shook his head. 'I don't know that that would work. I mean, priests have to answer to their temples first, so being part of the Order as well…' He trailed off, still shaking his head.

'I'm aware that there might be difficulties, but I think we can work it out. And the same for mages.' She looked to Gedrassis. 'If you could write to your old master, see if he knows anyone who might be interested…'

'Hmmm, yes. There's always one or two who want to become battle-mages or adventurers, I suppose they might consider it.' He didn't sound very positive about the idea.

Kiri winced at the cool reception her ideas were receiving. She had hoped that the others would be more enthusiastic about the opportunity to transform the Order.

_It is only to be expected_. Kershel told her bracingly. _New ideas always take some time to be accepted._

Encouraged, Kiri continued with the next item on the agenda. 'We will also need to re-build the command structure. Considering that there's so few of us, it would be silly to set up a bunch of new marshals. Instead, there will be captains in charge of each chapter-house.'

'Captains?' Telfur exclaimed, 'We haven't had captains for years, it's been a long time since we had enough people to need them.'

'Yes, well, that will wait until I can inspect the chapter-houses, which we'll incorporate into our first patrol.'

A cacophony of voices broke out. 'Patrol?' 'You want us to patrol – in winter?' 'How can we patrol, there aren't enough of us!' Kiri waited for them to quieten.

'Yes, of course we're going to patrol, that's what the Order is _for_.' She glared at them all, certain on this one thing at least. 'If we're not going to patrol, we might as well not be here. And yes, in winter. Monsters and brigands go out in the snow too.'

'And our numbers?' Morten asked.

'Well, they'll be small patrols,' Kiri conceded. 'Actually, more like surveys to see where the main problems are. But we have to be out there, to let people know that we're still active. Stories about what has happened here will be all over the northlands by now, and we have to show that we're still in business.'

Morten nodded, accepting her point. Some of the others didn't look so convinced, but that wasn't important right now.

'Back to the point about our command structure. I will need one Marshal as my second-in-command, and that will be Morten.'

'What? No!' Morten erupted, 'That won't work. I told you, I'm half-barbarian!'

'So?' Kiri asked. She didn't see the problem.

Morten sighed and dropped back into his chair, running a hand through his hair. 'I know that you don't get many barbarians up here, but in the River cities, especially Venkenka, barbarians are regarded as scum – criminal scum. There's no way that they'll accept me as a Marshal. I wouldn't have even been _allowed_ in the Order if my father wasn't a knight!'

Kiri suspected there was a story behind that, but now wasn't the time to ask. 'I think you are the best person for the job, so I'm offering it to you. Do you want it?'

Morten sighed, looked down, then met Kiri's eyes. 'Yes, I do,' he admitted. 'But it will make our job harder. It will be harder to get recruits, especially in Venkenka.'

'And why would we even want recruits who cared about you being half-barbarian?' Jordan demanded.

'Good point,' Kiri commented. 'But that brings me to my final item. At the moment, we don't even know if we can _afford_ to take on any recruits. We can't really make any detailed plans until we have cleared the fortress of undead and salvaged everything of value, until we know exactly what our resources are. So unless anyone has anything else they'd like to raise…?' Kiri braced her hands on the table, preparing to rise.

'There is one thing,' Jordan said, raising his hand to get her attention. 'The Winter Festival is tomorrow. It seems to me that would be the ideal time and place to announce that we're recruiting.'

Kiri blinked in surprise. She had almost forgotten about the festival. It seemed so long since she had been making plans with Marly… She shook off that thought and rose to her feet. 'That means that we'll need at least a vague idea of our financial situation by the end of the day. So I want everyone outside, ready to kill undead, in half an hour. Morten, Jordan – make sure everyone has the best equipment available.'

They all looked at her, seemingly waiting for something more. It didn't feel right for her to say _Dismissed!_ or some other military-style command, so she simply said, 'Get to it.' They got the message, pushing their chairs back and trooping out of the room.

Kiri waited until they were all gone, then collapsed back into her chair, heaving a huge sigh of relief that it was over. She wasn't sure how much she had been in charge of the meeting, and how much had been Kershel, but she felt utterly drained.

_You did well_. Kershel said. _I only supported you, most of that was your own doing_.

She wasn't sure she believed him. The idea of having him inside her head was extremely disturbing, but she had to admit it was useful. She didn't think she could have gotten through the meeting without him.

Then she noticed that she was no longer alone in the room. The young lady and the child had come back in, and were looking at her hopefully. 'Yes?' she asked. 'Did you want something?'

The lady drifted a bit closer. 'I was wondering,' she began timidly, 'what do you want me to do? I know I can't do much, but I'll do whatever I can to help!' she declared with earnest fervour.

Kiri looked blankly at them. She couldn't even remember their names.

Kershel supplied the information. _Astani_. _She is sixteen. The child is her niece, Rymi, aged five._

'Astani,' Kiri said. 'Do you have any family you can go to?'

Astani shook her head, tears in her eyes. 'All my family were here in the fortress, and now they're all dead. Rymi is all I've got left.' And she hugged the little girl to her side.

'Are you interested in becoming a soldier?' Kiri asked, but the flash of panic on Astani's face was answer enough.

Kiri sighed. 'All right. I'm sure we can find something for you to do. But you will have to learn at least the basics of fighting – this is a _fortress_, not a palace.'

The brunette looked scared, but nodded. 'If you want. But what should I do right now?'

_The storeroom._

'You can begin an inventory of the storeroom. There's a lot of things in there, so it will take ages, but you can at least make a start on it.'

Astani nodded, evidently pleased that she could make herself useful.

_Tell her to bring Gedrassis down to the storeroom, too. There is something I want to show him._

Kiri relayed Kershel's request, and Astani ran off to fetch the mage, Rymi scurrying along behind.

'And what was that about?' Kiri asked aloud.

_Come. I'll show you_. And he directed her through the dining room, downstairs to the storeroom. Between the storeroom and the larder was a wall occupied by empty shelves, and Kershel told her to shift them.

She laboriously heaved the shelf unit out of the way against another wall, revealing a stone wall inscribed with the eight-pointed star of the Order. Suspecting that it was a secret door, Kiri examined it, but found nothing.

Astani, Rymi and Gedrassis finally arrived. 'So, what's so special?' Gedrassis asked.

_Place your hand on the star_.

Kiri did so, and the entire wall sank in then swung to one side, revealing another staircase leading even deeper beneath the fortress. Kiri's eyebrows rose at the sight, but after a moment she started down the stairs, with the others following behind.

Crystals embedded in the walls started to glow as she descended, illuminating the stairs. They continued straight down, until Kiri estimated that they went down over a hundred feet. Only then did they come to a landing. The stairs turned, and went down even further, but there was a door on the landing and Kiri pushed it open.

She entered a small hall. There was a door at the far end, and more doors down each side. A couple of battered tables stood in the middle of the room, along with some equally battered chairs. Some ragged but comfortable-looking armchairs sat against the walls in little clusters. It all looked completely ordinary – except that the entire room, and everything in it, was saturated with magic.

It glowed in Kiri's sight, a white luminescence with little pulses and curls of blue, red and yellow. Oddly enough, the magic wasn't actually doing anything – it had simply soaked into the room. Gedrassis stepped past her.

'What is this place?' he asked. Not seeming to see anything unusual at all, he wandered across the room and opened one of the doors. Kiri flinched away as a flare of white light erupted from the doorway. As the brilliance faded, she looked back to see that Gedrassis had entered a library, where every book glowed with magic.

_This is where I practiced my magic_. Kershel said – unnecessarily, as Kiri had already realised as much. _My libraries, my laboratories…_

Gedrassis made a sound of startled awe as he pulled books from the shelves and stared at them. He rushed through the library, seemingly trying to touch everything at once. He paused at the door, looking wildly around the hall, clearly trying to decide which door to open next.

He raced across the room and opened the door opposite, revealing a large laboratory, full of strangely-shaped glassware, braziers, cauldrons and too many other things to take in. Gedrassis stared at it all, then ran to the next room.

This one held a workshop, one end set up with a forge and metal-working tools, the other with a bench, vice, saws, chisels – all the paraphernalia of a wood-working shop. Kiri inhaled the aroma of wood.

The room at the end was simply bare stone, but stone marked with many burns, stains and curious gouges. After that was a storeroom, with shelves full of strange items, and the air full of strange odours which set Rymi sneezing.

The last room was another library, which Gedrassis eagerly examined, before he raced off again on another circuit of the rooms, with Astani and Rymi following after, delighted but a little bewildered. Kiri just stood back and smiled at the mage's antics.

_Kiri. There is more I need to show you. Downstairs_.

Kiri left the room and continued down the staircase. She guessed that she had descended another fifty feet when the stairs ended at another star-marked wall. Kiri needed no prompting to place her hand on the star, and the wall swung open.

The room beyond was a crypt, a large circular vault. Three tombs lay in the centre of the room with stone effigies atop them, and more tombs lined the walls in small niches, with statues of their occupants. Although there were over a hundred niches, no more than twenty were occupied.

_This is where Commanders of the Order have been interred since the Founding. It has been sealed since the mage-haters took over, but now that there is a true Commander once again, I open it to you._

Kiri looked in wonder at the statues of past Commanders, but turned her attention to the three central tombs. The middle one held an effigy of a stocky, armoured woman, a sword clasped to her chest. Even with her eyes closed, seemingly in repose, there was an air of strength and purpose about her.

The tomb to the right bore the likeness of a slender woman, with features similar to the first. She simply looked to be asleep. Kiri turned to the third tomb, which held an effigy of a man in mage robes.

'Kershel? This was you? You were a half-Elf?'

_Yes. Did I not mention that?_

She snorted. 'There's a lot you didn't mention.'

_True. And there is one more thing. Push my tomb to the right._

By now, Kiri knew better than to be surprised, so she simply did as he said. The entire sarcophagus reluctantly slid to the side, revealing a dark hole and more steps going down. A chill wind rose from the opening.

_A secret tunnel. It only leads out into the valley, which is inconvenient, but you may find it useful_.

Kiri frowned. Truthfully, she would have found the tunnel a lot more useful if she had known about it a couple of days ago.

_You are now Commander. Only now do I disclose my secrets to you_.

And Kiri just had to accept that.


End file.
